


splintering

by mogitz



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heartbreak, I plan on shattering your heart into a billion pieces, Sorry Not Sorry, You will cry., alternate season 2, emotion, get you permission slip ready for this FEELZ TRIP, then clumsily gluing it back together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-19 05:20:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 72,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14867384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogitz/pseuds/mogitz
Summary: In the weeks following the Jubilee, Betty and Jughead struggle to figure out what his new 'family' means for their relationship. Afraid for Betty's safety and filled with self-doubt, he pushes away from her - but will Betty let things fall apart so easily or will she fight for the person she loves the most? Repost of a fic I impulsively deleted two months ago.DISCONTINUED.





	1. white noise

_You would have thought the saga was over by now, that things in Riverdale would slowly creep back to familiarity… But the events that took place over the last couple months had left a stain on the once-great town, and all that was broken could not be undone._

_Jason's murder was solved, but the fallout had left even more tragedy in its wake:_

_My father, FP Jones, was still locked up awaiting his trial for his involvement in Jason's cover up. Because he refused to name names or rat out any of the other Serpents, he was looking at hard time. In return, the Serpents had extended their protection to me - something I never thought I could possibly want, until I felt the heavy weight of my father's jacket resting on my shoulders._

_With Fred barely hanging on, Mary came home to stay with Archie - who seemed to be doing everything_ _except_   _focusing on the traumatic events that took place in the diner that morning. But Mary coming back had some benefits, one of which was her taking on my father's case._

_And while my dad was locked up, the Lodges awaited patiently for Hiram to be released - something Veronica was now conflicted about after learning of her father's shady dealings with the Serpents._

_The Coopers went back to their always smiling, always perfect Nuclear family. It was as though nothing had ever happened, except now they were counting down the days until Polly would give birth to two more Blossom heirs._

_But Betty had not forgotten how far her family had fallen or what her mother had told her. And while she wanted to throw all her energy into searching for the missing Cooper heir, she found herself distracted by her increasingly distant boyfriend - the one who was figuring out just_ _how_   _they were going to work with the changes that had occurred within the few short weeks._

_Which leads us to now - late at night, where a worried blonde paces her bedroom, waiting for her nightly visitor, who happens to be late. Waiting for me..._

* * *

"C'mon, Juggie, where  _are_ you?" Betty asked her silent phone, her bare feet padding back and forth across her room. She lit up her screen for the tenth time in the last minute to make sure it was on and functioning. 11:27PM. He was 42 minutes late. She couldn't say that he always arrived at exactly 10:45 every night, but it was always close enough where she never had to worry.

But 42 minutes was worry time. It was worry time when he was 15 minutes late. And if she was honest with herself, she started to worry even before his due time.Something seemed off tonight, but she was hoping that she was only being paranoid.

If she was honest with herself, something had seemed off since the night of the Jubilee. That night was peppered with both sweet and sour memories, although it was only a few weeks ago.

On the one hand, they'd finally expressed their love to one another, which cultivated into a whirlwind, romantic moment that still left her dizzy when she thought about it. At that moment, her heart was so full of love and admiration she thought she might burst, right up to the moment when there came a loud knocking on the front door.

They never did get to pick up where the left off, the rest of their night tainted with worry and uncertainty. He told her, just like when he'd transferred to South Side, that this would change nothing between them. He eased her worry with soft kisses and his thumb brushing across her jawline… but it wasn't enough to totally get the mood back. They promised they'd revisit it - they hadn't.

The next time she saw him, he was wearing the jacket. She didn't know exactly what that meant, but she was afraid to ask. He seemed afraid to tell her. It sat heavy between them, a ticking time bomb, ready to be unearthed at any given moment.

On a night like tonight. When he was now 44 minutes late.

She shook her head disapprovingly at herself, "Should  _always_ trust your intuition."

She hated that Jughead was forcing her to send a fourth text asking if he was okay. If he didn't answer this one, she was going to try calling.

As soon as she sent the text, she heard the all familiar sound of the rattling ladder outside her bedroom window. She let out a long breath and threw her phone on her bed, ready to greet her boyfriend...when she was instead met with her redheaded neighbor.

"Archie, what are you doing here?" She questioned with an angry undertone, mostly from having been tricked into believing it was who she was waiting for.

"Good to see you, too," Archie said as he effortlessly climbed through her window, "Ya know, there was a time you would have been ecstatic to have me climbing through your window."

Betty didn't even dignify that with a response as she retrieved her phone from her bed to make sure she didn't miss a message in the last thirty seconds.

He watched as she began to pace again, "I've been watching you do that for the past half hour. I know it's weird that Jughead hasn't showed up yet but-"

"His dad got denied bail," she interrupted him, her large eyes full of concern when she looked up at him, "Of  _all_ the nights Jughead shouldn't be alone, this is it! So why isn't he answering me? This is so unlike him…" she murmured the last part but Archie could hear the pain in her voice. She finally hit the call button and pressed her phone to her ear, each ring seeming to become louder and louder.

Archie opened his mouth to say something, but then Jughead's voicemail beeped and Betty spoke: "Jughead, please,  _please_ call me! O-or text me, I just need to know you're all right. Please...I love you."

Hearing her say those words caught Archie off guard. They weren't even directed at him, but the angelic tone in her voice made his heart pound. They were so pure and natural that he was sure he never heard anyone else give real meaning to the phrase. He certainly never heard it directed at him and it made a certain undignified jealousy rise within him.

"So...umm…" he cleared his throat as he tried to recover from it, "Based on a conversation I had with him earlier, I have a suspicion of where he might be…"

Her mouth dropped open in shock, "And you're just  _now_ saying something to me? Arch, I-," she pursed her lips together and closed her eyes. She gathered her patience before opening them again, " _Where_  do you think he is?"

He sighed heavily, "After he got word about his dad, he mentioned that the Serpents wanted to meet with him to come up with some plans. Deals of some sort-"

"So he is with the Serpents," she said, almost as though she felt betrayed - but she knew better. It wasn't that Jughead lied… they just never discussed it, afraid of where the conversation might lead.

"C'mon, Betty. It's not like it's a secret… he's been wearing that jacket all over town-" he stopped short when he saw the sadness in her face. She'd been in denial, he didn't need to rub it in.

She took in a sharp breath, processing it all before she asked, "Where would he go to discuss things with the Serpents? Not his trailer…"

"There's usually only one place they go to do that...that I know of anyway. And that's the Whyte Wyrm."

Betty narrowed her eyes, "You think he might be at a  _bar…_? Jughead?  _MY_  Jughead?"

"I dunno, I…" he trailed off when she sat down on her bed and pulled on socks and shoes, "Wait, you're not  _actually_  going there, are you? Betty, I've gone there before, it's not a good scene-"

" _Exactly_  why Jughead  _shouldn't_  be there, either," she reasoned logically, standing up and pulling her ponytail tighter.

He didn't know why he was so shocked. Betty was always quick to come to someone's rescue, especially when that someone was Jughead, "You can't go alone…! A girl  _like you_ in there is just...bad. Very bad."

"I can take care of myself," she grabbed her school jacket and slipped her arms through the sleeves, "Besides, if Jughead  _is_ there, I won't be alone. And if he's not, I'll leave."

"Yeah, but who knows if they'll let you leave so easily!" He shook his head and grabbed her arm, "At least let me drive you. I'll never forgive myself if I let you go and you never come back to me."

Betty gave him an odd glance at his statement, and she could see the panic and terror in his eyes at his own words. He didn't seem aware that he was starting to squeeze her arm, so she tugged herself out of his grasp, "Fine. We just need to find Jughead. He's not himself right now and I need to fix that. Let's go."

She climbed out her bedroom window and down the ladder Jughead had been using every night for the past four weeks.

* * *

 

Archie parked his car outside the Whyte Wyrm, getting ready to pull the keys out of the ignition and head inside the haunted bar with Betty. Both of them couldn't help but remember the video they watched of Jason getting shot in the head by his own father. Betty visibly shivered at the memory.

"Stay here," she told Archie, "I saw FP's truck parked in the corner, which means Jughead's probably inside."

Before Archie even had time to argue, Betty was slamming the passenger side door behind her and walking briskly to the front entrance. Either way, he still didn't trust the Serpents, let alone  _drunk_ Serpents. He killed the engine and stepped out, feeling the need to at least keep an eye on her.

Betty didn't even hesitate when she pushed the door open, automatically greeted with loud heavy music and men screaming at one another, either just to be heard or for an actual argument. Her eyes skimmed the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone who wasn't Jughead.

"Looks like we got a Pink Lady in the house, boys," an obnoxious biker commented snidely as he leaned on his pool stick. A smoking cigarette dangled from his chapped lips, "You gonna sing to us, Sweetheart?"

"I bet  _I_  could make her sing," another threw in for kicks, and the implication made Betty clench her fists, her nails instantly finding the scarred indents on her palms from her last incident.

"Lay off, you idiots. That's Jug's girl," a sensible Serpent finally cut in once he got a good look at her, though he hardly seemed interested as he walked around the pool table trying to find a good angle.

Hearing Jughead's name allowed Betty to unclench her fists and address the guy. She hurried over to him, asking him quickly, "Is Jughead here  _right now_?"

He cocked his head to the side, "He's over at the bar with Grinder and Tank."

Betty looked in that direction and before she could even give a sarcastic comment on the names of the gang members (not that she should, her boyfriend's name was  _Jughead_ after all), she spotted him between two much larger men, both of whom looked seasoned and ready to find their next fight. The three of them were laughing loudly and there were multiple empty beer mugs and shot glasses littering the table in front of them.

Gathering up her courage, Betty strided over to the trio, not being able to help herself when she called out Jughead's name before she even reached them.

He somehow heard her over all the noise, his eyes finding hers as she neared. It was like watching an angel walk through the filthy grit of hell, and it made him slightly tumble off his barstool in surprise, "Bet-  _Betty_ , what-"

His tumble did not go unnoticed by her and despair entered her seafoam eyes. She hated to even ask, but she couldn't help herself, "Jughead… have you been  _drinking?_ "

He shot his head back as though she slapped him, a clench tightening his heart, "Why would you even  _think_ that?"

"Looks like Virgin Mary is trying to save the day," the one with the bandana muttered into his beer. His name, Tank, was sewn on his jacket. He and Grinder chuckled and clinked their mugs together.

Betty tried her best to ignore them, "Well, you're in a  _bar,_ Juggie. Hanging out with forty-year-old drunks and-"

"So you jumped to that conclusion based on how it looks?" Jughead interrupted her, accusation in his tone. But his eyes told a different story - he was hurt and just taking that second to see it, Betty slumped her shoulders.

"You just… you didn't show up at my house. And you haven't answered any of my texts and I was worried." Her large eyes glistened and his shoulders slumped as well, both of them dropping their defenses.

"Jughead here is getting some new responsibilities," Grinder spoke up. He slapped a large, meaty hand on Jughead's shoulder, causing the teen to stumble to the side from the weight, "He doesn't have time to be doting on his little woman all the time, sweetie."

Betty didn't take her eyes away from Jughead, needing to see in him that all the words around them were nothing but white noise, and he was going to leave with her.

"Wait, wait, wait," Tank jumped in, walking toward Betty and leaned down to get a closer look at her. Jughead stepped in between them, his hands finding her arms. The separation didn't keep Tank from continuing, "You're Alice Smith's daughter." He chuckled, "Wow, history really does have a way of repeating itself. Her and FP used to-"

"Can we get out of here, Juggie?  _Please?_ " Betty asked him urgently, relieved when he nodded quickly. Her fingers slipped into his hand as she turned to head for the exit.

"Hey!" Grinder yelled, spinning Jughead around by his shoulder. Despite the movement, Betty's grip on his hand only tightened, refusing to let go now that she found him. Jughead stood his ground, his stance firm as he looked up into the eyes of the Serpent, "Just because we gratefully invited you in doesn't mean you always get a free ride. Remember what we discussed tonight."

Jughead pulled his shoulder from Grinder's grasp, matching his glare, "Yeah. Got it." He let Betty pull them from the situation and they both spotted Archie standing in front of the exit, his face showing relief that they were both okay.

They stepped out into the freezing night air, the silence ringing in each of their ears aside from their crunching boots in the snow. Betty spun around and threw her arms around his shoulders, pressing her face into the side of his neck. His arms instantly circled around her and held her close against him, his eyes closing before his hand found the back of her head.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said lowly, not unaware that Archie had stopped some ten feet away from them as well.

"Beats waiting up at home for you," she commented with a small smile he felt against his skin.

Jughead let out a long, wavering breath when he heard her say  _home._ Not  _her_ home. Just… home. And he suddenly wished more than anything that they were older and he could get a proper (and legal) job so they could move into their very own house together and call it home forever.

She looked up at him then, and the breath he just released got sucked back in from the hurt look in her eyes, "Why didn't you answer my texts?"

He looked away shamefully, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling it out, "Sorry… it died and I never found a place to charge it."

"Well...you need to look harder!" Betty grinned and wrapped her fingers around his collar, shaking him playfully, "I needed to hear your voice." When she finally got a smile out of him, she pulled on his collar so her lips could find is, both shivering visibly when his fingertips brushed against the soft skin of her cheeks.

Archie tried not to stare, but to him, it was like replaying a mistake over and over in his mind. He wasn't sure if he was feeling anger or jealousy, but one of those made him break their moment when he cleared his throat, "Did you guys need a lift back?"

Jughead kept Betty close when their kiss broke and they walked toward the redhead, "Nah, I got the truck. Hey...thanks for coming with her, though," he told Archie sincerely, "I know she probably fought with you on that at first."

"No, I didn't!" She countered, but her voice told Jughead that she did.

Archie chuckled dryly, "She wasn't that bad. But… I'm glad you're safe, Jug. I'll talk to you guys later."

"Bye, Archie. Thank you." Betty waved as he walked to his car. She then turned excitedly back to Jughead, her ponytail bouncing with her personality, "Let's go home. I have a surprise for you."

His heart skipped a beat. There was that word again.

_Home._

* * *

The old, beat up truck lurched up to the curb in front of Betty's house before slowly rolling to a stop. Jughead turned the engine off, carefully watching the way their breath emitted in white puffs from the cold. The heater wasn't working – " _figures,"_ he thought. The truck was older than  _him,_  after all.

Jughead side-eyed Betty, catching a quick shiver. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself, but flashed him a small smile anyway. She was always such a trooper. He thought about how tempted he was to scoot over to her and warm her up himself, but then again they'd said almost nothing since the bar. He couldn't gauge if she was still upset or not. She may have been all smiles in the parking lot, but he knew once Betty had a few moments for her thoughts to catch up with her, she'd have more to say.

So instead, he cleared his throat and her eyes flitted up to meet his. He fidgeted nervously with the keys in his hand.

"You should know I  _abhor_  surprises," Jughead reminded her, dryly. He didn't need to. Betty could remember just how well her  _last_  surprise went over. She folded her lips and resisted the urge to tease him over the use of the word ' _abhor_.' He was very clearly a writer.

A melodramatic one, but a writer nonetheless.

It was one of the many, complex, intricately woven reasons why she loved him. She would often find herself staring at him, much like she was right now, wondering just what was going on inside that head of his. He was a puzzle, always in need of figuring out.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she waved him off, scooting across the seat of the truck to pull at the handle. He reached out for her.

"W-wait, where are you going?" He wasn't ready for her to go inside just yet – he actually did want to talk about what had happened earlier. He hated that he'd worried her so much; that had never been his intention. But more than that, he hated that she had put herself in such a dangerous situation, coming to look for him. He wasn't sure if he was more upset at  _her_ or  _himself_  over that one.

The fact was, Jughead wasn't too used to checking in with people. He'd always just come and gone as he pleased, with no one to really answer to. No one to worry about him. It was a welcome change, but an unfamiliar one as well. He felt like he had no idea how to do the right thing where Betty was concerned.

That didn't seem to matter, though. In the last few months of their relationship, the ' _right thing_ ' had seemed to mostly come naturally to him. He always wanted to make her as happy as she made him.

She smiled at him over her shoulder, a look of mischief in her eyes. She gripped onto his freezing cold hand and her warmth took him aback.

" _C'mon_ ," she giggled. She leaned over, pressing a reassuring kiss into his cheek. "It's all part of the surprise…"

"There's that word again…" Jughead found himself murmuring. Regardless of his reservations, he followed after her. Their hands were still clasped together as Betty hopped out of the truck. Their boots crunched in the thick snow as they trudged up her driveway and around the corner of her house.

They slipped under the ladder that had been planted at Betty's window for the last several weeks – either Alice and Hal were completely oblivious, or had given up caring at this point. He squeezed Betty's hand tighter as she led him to the middle of the snow-covered yard.

"What is goin-" he started to ask, but stopped when her hand slipped from his and she started running toward the shed.

"Wait there!" she instructed him over her shoulder. Jughead shuddered, adjusted his hat, and shoved his cold hands into his pocket as she disappeared into the tiny room.

It was only a matter of seconds later that a bright light flashed in his face, nearly blinding him. His hands shot up and instinctively covered his eyes, trying to protect them from the sudden intrusion.

Once he'd rubbed away the speckles from his vision, he could see Betty, proudly gesturing toward the old Twilight Drive In sign – which was now illuminated and haphazardly propped up on top of the shed. It was the smaller one, of course, closer to the popcorn stand, but it was definitely the same one he had dressed with hundreds of movie titles over the time he had worked there. The marquee read, "Betty + Jughead."

His eyes and mouth widened as he stared at the old artifact, something he'd assumed had been completely torn apart and sold for scraps weeks ago – something he never thought he'd see again.

Betty giggled at his lack of response, her arms outstretched as she proudly announced, " _TA-Daaaah!_ "

"Betts, when did you… I mean,  _how_  did you-" Betty smirked and neared him, her boots dragging in the snow coyly as she tucked the loose, blonde hair behind her ear.

"Just a little favor I asked Fred for. Back before…" Her words trailed off – she meant back before he was shot. She shook the thoughts away.  _This_  was a happy moment. She grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a light shake, excitedly. " _Well?_  What do you think?"

His mouth still hung open, his eyes staring above her at the sign he'd stared at millions of times before in his life. It never seemed to glow quite as beautifully as it was right now.

"A piece broke when they took it down, so I was waiting to give it to you the last few weeks while it got fixed. It was  _supposed_ to be done for your birthday-" Once again her words tapered off, this time as she tried to figure out what exactly the look on his face meant – she didn't always know how to read him. " _Jug?_ "

He shook his head, his jaw clenching as he tried to find the right words to say to her. When nothing would come to him, he reached forward and cupped her face, bringing her lips to his just as he had so many times. Only this time, his heart ached in his chest.

_Was this what it felt like to be loved this much?_

He pulled away slowly, and they both felt a little dizzy, a little breathless. His eyes slowly opened to see hers staring back at him, a kind of confused blissfulness in them.

"What did I  _ever..._  do to get so lucky?" he asked her. He wondered if there would ever be a time when he looked at Betty Cooper and understood what she saw in a guy like him. Her hands enveloped his, once again warming them, as they still rested on her jaw.

"You  _saw_  me," she told him simply. Such an understatement, and it almost pained him to hear. Of  _course_ he saw her. When she was around it was like no one else even  _existed_. How could anyone look at a girl like Betty and not think the sun rose in the sky every morning just to revolve around her?

"I have more," she told him. He wanted to groan, but he figured he should refrain from it – his lack of love for surprises or not, she was trying  _so_  hard to make him happy. She tugged him along as she made her way over to the tree that held the old yet sturdy treehouse they used to play in when they were younger.

Jughead watched as Betty started to climb the ladder - pieces of wood that were poorly nailed into the tree. He was about to comment about how safe this really was, when her foot slipped on the third step up, ice having formed on the top. He instinctively grasped onto her legs in case she toppled down, "Betty, are you-"

"I just crashed a bar and fought a gang of bikers to find you," she smiled down at him before she continued to climb, "This is nothing."

"Anyone ever tell you that you have a tendency to exaggerate?" He teased her, though didn't feel his shoulders release until he saw her crawl safely onto the landing. She peeked down at him and waved him up. The twinkle in her eyes was irresistible, and he found himself climbing up after her in a heartbeat. She scooted back when he reached the top, his eyes scanning over the small area.

She had obviously cleaned it out before lying a few layers of blankets down. There were five LED candles near the back to allow some light in the area that would have otherwise been completely dark. There were a few speakers rigged up, a projector she'd stolen from her dad's office. It was pointed to the big, empty space on the side of her house - ready to flash a movie across it.

"Our own personal faux-drive in experience!" She brought her knees up to her chest and bit her bottom lip as she waited for his reaction. When he didn't respond, her shoulders fell and she heaved out a sigh, "Juggie...on your birthday you said you would have preferred it if it was just the two of us. Well…" she motioned to the small space, "Believe me, I didn't invite anyone else."

He tried to pull his lips up into a smile, but the fact that he couldn't just made him even sadder. Never had he done anything in his life that was worth all of this - all of  _her._ He never did anything that proved he deserved her.

Every time she tried to do something nice, he'd snapped at her. He'd jumped to conclusions, assumed that she had anything but the best of intentions. He had been so scared of inevitably losing her that he seemed to lash out every time she did something that made him never want to lose her. He had no idea why he was this way… or how to make it stop.

He could still remember, too vividly, the look in her eyes when he told her, "and to think, I almost considered passing up a chance to move with my family to Toledo because of you." He remembered the words leaving his mouth against his will, not being able to stop himself. In a lot of ways, Jughead truly believed that while he was an okay friend to her... he was never a good boyfriend.

"Juggie," her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. She looked concerned, no doubt thinking he hated all the surprises.

In reality, he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he owed a debt to the Serpents now. If he stayed with Betty, and she kept pulling the kind of stunt she pulled tonight, she was going to get hurt. And it would be his fault. He saw the sadness in her eyes tonight - waiting up for him, worrying about him… that wasn't making her happy.

He wasn't sure he had what it took to keep her safe and happy. Not anymore.

He climbed in, sitting beside her on the blankets, but he didn't put his arm around her. Didn't touch her. His heart felt like it wasn't doing its job. It was suffocating. How did she want him to react? What was the normal reaction supposed to be when the best girl in the world did something perfect for him? What did normal people do in these situations? His hand came up to his head, his eyes hurting with the burn of uncertainty.

"If you don't like it…" she started, her eyes trying to find his even though he seemed to be doing everything he could to avoid eye contact.

"Betty…" he sighed heavily, his Serpent leather jacket now feeling like it weighed one hundred pounds, the weight pressing down on his life.

She waited for him to say more, but when long seconds went by, it was becoming painfully obvious that he wasn't going to deny that he didn't like it. She felt a deep sadness envelope her and, despite  _wanting_ to simply apologize for throwing him another surprise, she felt herself become defensive, "I was just trying to do something  _nice_ and-and…. _romantic_ for us, I-"

"Yeah, well, Betty, you shouldn't  _have_ to do this," he snapped back, finally looking at her. Though he found he had to look away quickly so as not to see the despair in her large eyes. He sighed again, "I mean, shouldn't it be  _me_ that does romantic things for  _you?_ But what have I  _ever_ done for you? Other than worry you or burden you-"

"Jughead,  _stop_ ," She pulled herself to her knees so she could lean in front of him, "I  _want_ to do these things, it's just the way I am…"

" _And_ _I_   _don't want you to!"_ He countered, his eyes narrowed in a way she'd never seen before. "I don't think I have to point out  _again_ how different we are."

"Why are you still trying to push me away?!" Her own words wounded her heart so badly that instant tears slid down her cheeks, "I told you I wouldn't stop fighting for you, or your dad, and yet you're fighting  _against_ me! You're not a burden, Jughead. I love you-"

"You need to-" he was ready to retaliate when she caught him off guard by cupping his cheeks in her hands and pressing their foreheads together.

"Please… stop," she whispered softly before a soft sob, her fingertips digging into his skin as if she were afraid he would disappear if she didn't hold on tight.

And she had every right to believe that. He needed to keep her safe, and the road he was going down, he knew she couldn't follow. His hands grasped onto hers, and he was ready to push her off of him, but the tighter he held on, the firmer she became. His hands began to shake, his breathing ragged. He had to tell her to go now or he never would. But instead of his mouth finding words, it only found hers, their quivering lips finding life together.

She scooted her knees between his ankles to get closer to him, her fingers slipping down to his neck causing him to visibly shiver. He wanted to talk to her…  _no._ He  _needed_  to talk to her But she knew that and something inside of her warned her. It told her that if she could just take his mind off of whatever he was currently thinking...everything would be all right by morning.

"Betty," he murmured against her lips, trying to find a breath in her unrelenting pursuit. Finally he was able to move away from her, his mouth moving against her jawline, his mind going blank at the breathy sigh that escaped from her throat, "You're shaking…"

"Wouldn't you say that's a good thing?" She asked lowly by his ear and he instinctively pulled her closer. He never, in his whole life, allowed anyone to have any sort of control over him, yet she was able to bring him to his knees so easily.

"I don't think we should be doing this up here," he said, mostly as a last resort. He grabbed ahold of her wrists and pushed her hands away from him, their eyes finally meeting again, "Betty...I think we need to talk."

Betty looked frustrated, but her lips were pouty from being pressed against his, "About what, Jughead? About what happened tonight? It's fine, it was all-"

"It's  _not_ fine, though! You have no idea what went on tonight, and then you just showing up at the Whyte Wyrm was so… it was so dangerous and reckless, you  _know_ that's where Jason was killed!"

"And yet  _you_ were there!" She countered, "Do you really think you're completely protected just because your dad isn't pointing fingers right now?"

"I'm more protected  _with_ them than against them. They can…" He suddenly smelled the faint scent of blood, and that's when he realized her jaw was clenched and her eyes almost vacant. Her wrists were still in his hands, but her fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were pale. "Betty, stop," he told her, shaking her gently to snap her out of her.

Betty could only hear him as if they were underwater. The undeniable anger inside her was causing a loud  _whooshing_  in her ears. She couldn't believe the Serpents had already brainwashed him into thinking he was protected and nothing they would ever ask him to do was dangerous.

" _Betty, stop!"_ Jughead's sudden loud and deep voice made her blink back to reality. She was acutely aware of a burning pain coming from her hands and knew she had once again gotten lost in her own dark thoughts. Her hands shook as she unclenched her fists, her nails coming out of her skin to reveal eight blood scar lines; they reminded him of a new game of hangman, and it was up to him to guess the letters and figure out the puzzle.

"Sorry, I just…" She folded in her lips when she couldn't find the words. She brought her hands to her chest and scooted away from him, "You know...I think it's a bit too late to start a movie. Call it a night?" She attempted a smile as she prepared to climb down the ladder.

Jughead had no choice but to follow after her. He wasn't sure how long her dark episodes could linger, and he was worried what it could possibly mean. And he couldn't help but be grateful when they climbed into her bedroom and out of the cold. He didn't realize how chilled his skin was until he felt the warmth of the house.

Betty slipped her jacket off and threw it over to her vanity, not even caring when it hit the floor. She was purposely avoiding Jughead's eyes - there was a tortuous sadness in them tonight, and something inside her felt like it had something to do with her. Something she knew was coming, but she didn't want to hear.

"Betty…"

"Take off that jacket," she said through the darkness of her bedroom, still not turning around to look at him.

There was a tone in her voice that Jughead never heard before. It wasn't threatening, but the assertiveness told him that the jacket disgusted her right now. He hated feeling like he was given an ultimatum in that moment. If he took off the jacket, would that make her believe he was ditching the Serpents?

"Am I asking for something impossible?" Her voice was just above a whisper, her head turned to the side.

He admired her profile, the side of her face somehow premiering all of her fear. But she was so beautiful and he couldn't help but notice the way her fingers flexed and unflexed as she tried to keep her palms from harm. Without wasting another second, he shook the jacket from his arms, the heavy piece of himself hitting the floor.

She thanked him, pulling her hair from its ponytail and letting it fall to her shoulders. His mouth ran dry when she tugged her shirt over her head, his eyes roaming her bare back. She must have been ready for bed before she went out to find him; she hadn't been wearing a bra. And without turning around, she simply laid on her bed on her tummy, her arms covering her face.

Absently, he slipped his hat from his head, discarding it on top of his jacket. She looked ethereal lying there in the dark, her silhouette outlined only from the faint light coming through her window.

He should have left in that moment. No, he should have covered her up and told her in order to keep her as perfect as she was then, he would have to let her go. He should have ignored all of his feelings and put on a blank face to prove that this meant nothing to him. He should have put his hat and jacket back on to close him off and make him stronger.

Instead, he found himself tugging his own shirt off and crawling over her body, his lips kissing between her shoulder blades, both of their stomachs bottoming out when she sucked in a wavering breath.

Seemingly out of nowhere, his mind was flooded with so many memories. They'd spent a small lifetime together, most of their young lives. Sure, he often felt like a third wheel to Betty and Archie, but his entire life… she'd been there. Not always the way he wanted her, but constantly.

 _Unconditionally_.

Throughout all the things that had happened to him, throughout the things he shared with her or hid from her, she was always there.

While he figured that he had maybe  _always_  loved Betty, the events that paved their way to this moment really began at the end of Freshman year, last spring. Only a mere couple months before Jason Blossom's murder.

He remembered entering the classroom and spotting her right away, her golden ponytail high as she bit her thumbnail, her eyes eagerly drinking in the pages of a book. He wondered what kind of pictures she was seeing in her mind, what kind of adventure she was on at that very moment. He almost hated to interrupt.

But, of course he did anyway.

"Well, hello there, Betty Cooper," Jughead had smirked at her, hopping up and sitting on the desk beside hers. Betty pulled her nose out of her book, her face lighting up at the sight of her old friend - it didn't matter that she'd just seen him at lunch; she was relieved to see him  _here_. It was the final semester of their freshman year, creative writing class, and Betty was certain she'd be taking the class without any of her friends. Archie had said he'd rather get a lobotomy than sit through Shakespeare and Kevin was never much of a writer.

"Fancy meeting you here, Jughead Jones  _the third_." She shut her book with a pop, leaning forward, "why didn't you tell me you were taking this class?" He gave her a sideways grin and a shrug.

"You didn't ask." Betty smiled back sheepishly - he had a point, there.

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Jones," Mrs. Caldwell said, sweeping into the room, a mess of papers in her arms. "Desks are for  _writing_ , not for  _sitting_. Down. Now."

"Well,  _technically_ -" Jughead began, formulating some kind of sarcastic comeback, but Mrs. Caldwell stopped him before he could finish. She pointed a ruler in his direction. Why she even had a ruler in a writing class was a mystery to Jughead.

"I'm not in the mood for your witty banter today,  _Forsythe_."

Jughead cringed at the use of his real name, sliding down from the desk, "low blow, Mrs. Caldwell."

He shrunk into his seat as his peers snickered around him. Betty shot him a reassuring smile instead - she knew how much he hated his first name. So much so, he preferred the name Jughead over it.  _That_ was saying something. She was always good at making him feel human. Accepted. Wanted. Something more than the quiet weirdo in the back of the room.

"Okay, if you'll look at your syllabus you'll see that the first read-through we'll be doing this trimester is Shakespeare-"

Jughead listened as kids around him groaned, but he was too mesmerized watching the way Betty was twirling her pencil between her fingers to wage a fight against the assignment. Shakespeare was so overdone, so cliche. And of course, she went on to let them know they'd be reading "Romeo and Juliet."

"I had to read that in first semester English," the girl behind Betty complained. Mrs Caldwell smiled without warmth back at her.

"Good. Then you will have an even better understanding of the literature-"

" _No_ spoilers," Jughead joked aloud. "I hear there's quite a twist at the end, I wanna be surprised." Betty snorted, and that alone made it worth it when Mrs. Caldwell glared at him.

"I  _mean_  it, Mr. Jones. I don't need your commentary on everything. Save it for  _your_  sharing time."

Betty hid her chuckles behind her hand, shaking her head and Jughead just watched her. He couldn't help but smile to himself. He was so glad he finally,  _finally_ , had a class where it was just the two of them.

Because ever since they were little, it had always been the  _three_  of them: Archie, Betty,  _and_ Jughead. They had every class together (except for his short stint in Juvie), spent every summer together… even after FP lost his Job and Jughead's family had to move out of the neighborhood, they were never apart.

Until recently.

Now that they were in high school, things had been different. They were starting to take up different interests, peel off into different groups… and Jughead was more alone than not. But over the last year, Betty and Jughead had discovered their mutual love of writing. And now they found themselves here.

And for  _once,_ he didn't have to share Betty's attention with Archie - a battle he never seemed to win, anyway.

Not that he was  _trying_.

"Betty, will you read Juliet?" Mrs. Caldwell asked. Jughead wanted to roll his eyes. Of  _course._  Who  _else_  would it be? Betty nodded obediently and opened her book. Mrs. Caldwell scanned the room, her eyes settling on Jughead. "Ah, yes. Mr. Jones since you're so big on talking today, how about you read the Narrator and stage directions?"

_Tough luck._

"And as for  _Romeo-_ "

Mrs. Caldwell's thoughts were interrupted by the classroom door opening. And just as fate would have it, Archie was now poking his head in.

"Uh, is this…" he looked down at his palm, trying to make out his handwriting, "Creative Writing & Lit?"

"Yes, can I help you?" Jughead's stomach dropped when Archie's eyes found them toward the back of the room - he knew exactly what was happening. He'd gone and jinxed it.

"Biology was over-booked. My counselor said I had to pick something else for my third period slot-" Archie explained. Jughead tried not to notice the way Betty's face lit up and she gave him an excited wave.

"Wonderful, Mr. Andrews,  _happy_  to have you. Come have a seat," Jughead's eyes followed Archie into the room, predictably taking the empty seat on the other side of Betty.

"What are you doing here? You said you don't like writing?" Betty whispered over to Archie.

"I just thought, why not. Easy A… and I'll get to hang out with my best friends."

"Okay, now where was I…" Mrs. Caldwell mused, her hand finding her chin contemplatively. "Oh yes. Romeo. How about you read our Romeo, Archie?"

Of  _course._

Regardless of the intrusion at the time, Betty and Jughead did spend a considerable amount of time together in Mrs. Caldwell's class. Jughead had a strong inclination, merely based on his peer's writings, that he and Betty were maybe the only two people who were actually taking the class seriously.

For an assignment, they had to write a poem about something or someone without saying who or what it was about - essentially shrouded in mystery. It was clear from Archie's writing that he'd clumsily crafted a few lines about football.

Jughead's poem was about the unfair distribution of wealth in society and the way it can affect the class division within a community. It was met with yawns and under-appreciation from his peers - that was no surprise. He was always ahead of his time.

Betty's was  _very_ clearly about Archie. The whole room stared at him the entire time she read the poem. Hell, even Betty stared at him the whole time. The only person who didn't get it was Archie himself. And Jughead was finding it increasingly hard to keep his mouth shut any more.

Either Archie was completely oblivious, or he knew about Betty's deep, burning crush on him and chose to ignore it - it was easier than actually telling her he didn't feel the same way about her. Archie was never one for confrontation, anyway.

As usual, Jughead stewed on it, because ultimately, Betty never looked at him the way she looked at Archie. And, at least at the time, he thought she never would.

So he was quite surprised when he came into her room in a suit for Jason's funeral and her eyes lit up the way they did looking at Archie in the past… and he knew. For the first time  _ever_ , there was an actual chance that she could love him. If it hadn't been for that little moment, that little spark, he never would have been brave enough to kiss her.

He  _hated_ that now a little part of him wished he never had. At least then he would never have to hurt her.

As Jughead shook the memories away, his eyes pulling back to Betty's shoulder, illuminated by the moonlight, he felt just as confused as ever. He wished he knew the answer, he wished he didn't have to sort through the tangled, knotted thoughts in his mind alone… but that's how he did things. That's the only way he knew how.

_Alone._

"I love you," he whispered into her ear, lowering himself gently atop of her to feel her skin against his.

"I love you," she choked on her words, and he never heard something sound so tragically pure. He kissed her shoulder again before turning, bringing her with him so she was laying in front of him, her back still pressed against his chest.

Betty wanted him to do more. She wanted to see the passion that he started to show her the night he got that stupid jacket. She wanted  _that_ Jughead back. The one that wasn't afraid to love her, the one that didn't treat her like she was about to slip away.

"I'm all yours, Juggie," she told him, reminding him that nothing changed for her.

He hid his face in her hair at her words, and he took a moment to breathe in the scent of her shampoo and hairspray. It was the end of the day, but it smelled like she just woke up. He was going to miss the breath of fresh air that was Betty Cooper.

And it became apparent that Betty was waiting for a reciprocation that was never going to come.

* * *

_To be continued..._

 


	2. borrowed time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to upload chapter 2 <3 enjoy.

* * *

_The best thing about morning is that it can be a time of healing for many of us. When we awaken to a bright new day, full of promise, we are given a blank slate. The ability to choose whether we sink or swim. It can also be healing in those brief, blissful moments when you first open your eyes and don't remember the day before, or anything bad. It's just calm. Peaceful._

_Unfortunately in those cases, once we have come to, we are reminded all over again._

_Still, battling our demons, we have a choice to seize the day… or let it seize us._

* * *

Jughead awoke feeling the emotional hangover from the night before.

It hit him the moment he opened his eyes. He knew it was early; he could make out the faint break of day through Betty's faded white curtains and soft, pink walls. It didn't matter that he'd gotten a few dreamless, thoughtless hours of peace from his own racing mind. Everything came rushing back to him immediately.

His jacket still lay rumpled on the floor, a reminder of where they'd left things before they had silently drifted off to sleep.

Jughead rolled over, draping an arm over Betty and brushing golden hair from her face. While part of him wanted to dissolve into her, stay there for the rest of  _time_  even, he knew better than to linger. The more time he spent with Betty lately, the more torn he felt.

And he couldn't stay. He had a lot to do today - his conversation with Grinder was far from over before Betty had interrupted them last night. He was glad she didn't ask what exactly their plans were, mostly because he didn't want to lie to her. And secondly, because he didn't totally know. Grinder had been so cryptic that he wasn't quite sure exactly  _what_  he was agreeing to.

Not that it mattered.

He was a Serpent now - although that was the first time he'd thought that with such certainty. Before, he'd teetered on the safe side, but as time went on, his choice was becoming more obvious. And he knew he couldn't have  _both._

Jughead heard Betty begin to stir, giving a soft moan as she awoke. He leaned over her, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"Juggie?" she mumbled but her eyes remained closed.

He shushed her gently, "It's still early. I gotta go." She reached her hand up, taking ahold of his arm and pulling him even closer to her.

"No, just stay. Five more minutes." Sleep was still thick in her throat.

Jughead was torn, but for some reason he couldn't resist her request. Really, how many more times was he going to be able to sleep beside her? Hold her in his arms? He let out the breath he'd been holding, letting his mind go blank while he nuzzled his face into her hair. She sighed too, and it was a soft, heavenly sound. Like she was at peace just knowing he was still there.

After she dozed back off, he was able to finally slip from the room. He crept down the stairs and started heading for the door when he heard a rustling in the kitchen.

"Leaving so soon?"

The words stopped Jughead in his tracks. Any other day he would have crept out the way he came - back through Betty's window. But with Hal and Alice being out of town ( _allegedly_ ), he thought he'd take a chance to avoid the cold just a little longer.

_Wrong move._

There, waiting for him at the kitchen table, was Alice Cooper. Her icy eyes pierced into him, making his stomach drop and his mouth go dry - the last thing he wanted was the wrath of Alice coming down upon him.

His gaze veered off to the clock above her. It was 5:00 in the morning, but with her perfectly pressed skirt and coiffed hair, it appeared that she'd been up for a while.

He slowly raised his hands up, a slight surrender, as he told her, "I swear this isn't what it looks like."

Alice glowered at him, her head tilting to the side, "well, it looks like you're sneaking out of my daughter's room after staying the night." His face and shoulders fell, his breath hitching as he ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"Okay. So. It's kind of  _exactly_  how it looks." He lazily pulled his beanie onto his head and anxiously shifted his weight from foot to foot. He was waiting to be yelled at or dismissed. To his surprise, Alice just nodded. Her expression softened but still failed to tell him  _just_  how much trouble he was in. He could deal with that - it wasn't the first time Jughead Jones had worn out his welcome somewhere. That wasn't what he was worried about.

His immediate frame of thought fell to Betty. Surely she'd never hear the end of this from Alice, and he felt awful for that.

"Mrs. Cooper, nothing happened," Jughead assured her. She gave him a faint, tight-lipped smile and walked toward the cupboard. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor. It seemed so deafeningly loud to him for some reason. He wondered if he should just leave before things became even more strange.

"Breakfast?" she offered before he could turn for the door. The thought alone made Jughead's stomach grumble in response. He couldn't really remember his last meal that wasn't nuked in a microwave or bought at Pop's.

Still... this felt like a trap.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, "you can't leave without eating something, Jughead. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know."

Alice must've had some kind of super mom-powers, because he found himself staggering toward the kitchen table and having a seat. The unlikely pair remained in awkward silence as she poured herself a cup of coffee, then him.

"Cream? Sugar?" she asked politely.  _Too_  politely.

He shook his head and took the mug in his hands. He took a sip of the black, swirling coffee even though it burned his tongue.

Jughead watched on suspiciously as Alice scooped his oatmeal - making sure she wasn't poisoning him. She expertly sprinkled brown sugar across the top the same way he'd always seen on TV - the way he always wished his mother had. Hell, he wished he had just one memory of his mother even  _making_  him breakfast. Until he had learned how to make his own, it was usually just a granola bar thrown into a brown paper bag. Alice was not a perfect person, and certainly not a perfect mother, but he felt a slight pang of envy inside of him. At least Betty had someone who  _cared_  enough to make her life hell.

Alice placed the bowl neatly in front of Jughead and gracefully lowered herself into the chair adjacent to him. The only sound between them in the quiet house was the clinking of his spoon against the bowl as he stirred.

"Did your father ever tell you how we met?" Alice asked curiously, her voice bright as she leaned toward him. Jughead didn't answer aloud, merely cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. Alice leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. She stared past him at nothing, seemingly pulling a memory from the back of her mind.

"We were neighbors." Jughead felt disappointed by such a simple statement. Her dramatic lead-up had made him think there was more to the story than that.

"I figured you guys just knew each other in school…" Jughead mumbled. Alice shook her head somberly.

"No. We grew up together, right next door." Jughead tried to picture it, his dad and Betty's mom, young kids. What did they ever have in common. Other than geography. Then he thought about what that meant.

"So, that would make  _you-_ "

"A Southside girl," she finished for him. She picked at her napkin apprehensively, and Jughead wondered why she seemed so nervous all of a sudden. He ate his breakfast uncomfortably and didn't interrupt as she went on. Her story shifted, "We were best friends, actually. We did everything together. A lot like you, Betty and Archie growing up."

Jughead shrugged, his eyes flashing to hers, "what changed?"

"High school. It was a different time, back before the lines were so divided. We all went to Riverdale High. It was only the bad kids that ended up at South Side High School, back then."

"Well, then I'm surprised my dad didn't go there," Jughead muttered, his appetite plummeting at the ongoing conversation about his father. Alice just smiled, mostly to herself, her gaze far away.

"No. FP wasn't a bad kid, Jughead. He was actually quite popular… charming. He had a lot of friends."

"So… nothing like me." Jughead deadpanned.

"Not necessarily," Alice said running her hands along the tablecloth, smoothing out any imperfections. "He was also very smart. He was a little dark, but funny." Jughead's throat tightened, his eyes involuntarily tearing. He'd only ever known two FPs: the deadbeat one, and the sober one. He realized now that maybe he didn't know his father at all.

Alice went on, "in some ways I'd say you remind me  _a lot_  of him, Jughead." Jughead wasn't so sure that was a compliment. "Same demeanor. Same kind eyes. It's probably what makes Betty care for you so much."

"I always thought she had bad taste in guys," Jughead said before he could stop himself. He smirked at his own self-depreciating joke. Alice laughed a bit, bringing her mug to her lips. She looked a lot like Betty when she smiled. He hadn't noticed it before because, well, Alice very rarely smiled.

"You can take the girl out of South Side, but you can't take the South Side out of the girl. And we seem to have a soft spot for you Jones boys. That's why I've never minded you, Jughead. I know first hand.  _Too_  well."

Jughead's eyes bravely found hers now as she looked at him with an expression he'd never seen in her before. He didn't ask her to elaborate, but he instantly wondered just what exactly Alice and FP had  _really_  meant to each other.

Was it the same as with him and Betty?

"And I don't think  _you're_  a bad kid, either."

"Good, because I'm  _not_ ," Jughead found himself snapping defensively, even though he wasn't sure how much truth was in that anymore. He flinched, hoping his sharp tone didn't upset her too much. Alice just seemed to shake it off - with two teenage daughters, she was used to being snapped at. Her hands tightened around her mug.

"Jughead… we need to talk about something."

That simple phrase killed his appetite entirely. Nothing good ever came after 'we need to talk.' He pushed his bowl away from himself, sitting up in his chair.

"Alright. Let's have it."

"I've heard you've been wearing that jacket around," she told him, glancing down at the black, leather coat poking out of his messenger bag. He wasn't expecting that. His jaw clenched, his cheeks warming. She narrowed her eyes at him, "Do you know what that even  _means?_ "

"It  _means…_  that I will be looked after. Family. That someone has my back."

Alice leaned back in her chair again, sighing exasperatedly and shaking her head, " _no_ , Jughead. It's so much more than you could possibly understand right now. I know you're a smart kid. This is  _above_  you. You are signing on to a life you may regret. I'm telling you now: people don't get to just  _leave_  the South Side-"

" _You_ did." Her stare turned dark.

"I married a Cooper. I got  _lucky..._ Not everyone gets that lucky." Jughead was starting to become frustrated with all the cryptic things she was saying; he hated the way adults tended to talk in circles. Why didn't she just say what she meant?

"What  _exactly_  are you trying to say, here?"

"What I am trying to say is… I didn't have the same opportunities that we've allotted Betty. I got out, but  _most_  never do. You resigning to be a- a  _Serpent_ , is just sealing your fate in that decrepit part of town-"

"Thanks for breakfast, Mrs. C," Jughead said abruptly, pushing himself up and away from the table. He snatched up his bag and hoisted it over his shoulder, "But I've gotta get back to the other side of the tracks."

"Jughead,  _wait_ ," Alice stood quickly, her arm outstretched to halt him. He'd heard about enough of this already, he knew where this conversation was going now. He'd always known that it was just a matter of time before Alice decided to meddle. He was actually surprised it had taken this long.

And with everything he'd already been feeling - the fear of dragging Betty down with him prominently weighing on his mind - it could not have come at a worse time.

He shrugged at her again impatiently, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"What?" he practically hissed. She rounded the table, stepping towards him slowly, as though she were approaching a scared, stray animal that was backed into a corner.

"If you are going to be running around in a gang, well... I can't stop you. That's  _your_  business… But  _since_  my daughter is in love with you and has proven more than once that she is willing to give up anything to be with you? It becomes  _my_  business."

Jughead couldn't look at her again - he felt ashamed. He already knew what Betty was sacrificing just being with him. It was all he thought about, most nowadays.

But… he couldn't just turn away from the Serpents. He loved Betty, more than anything… but this was his father's legacy. This was the first time he'd ever felt protected by a family, felt like he had any kind of power to change things around him… felt like he actually  _belonged_  somewhere.

How was he supposed to choose?

One thing remained true: one day, Betty was going to wake up and realize that he was no good for her. He'd said it before: they were on borrowed time.

The Serpents, however? They were bound by blood. The only way he'd leave them would be in a body bag. They would be there for him no matter what.

Jughead's lack of a reaction seemed to irk Alice. She sat again and began stirring her coffee absently. Her tone turned chilly as she told him, "I will  _not_  see my daughter throw her life away because  _you've_  decided to carry on the Jones legacy, Jughead. It's not fair to her. She  _has_  a future."

And her being with him would drag her down. Just like his parents, and their parents before them.

The Joneses were poison.

Just like he'd always known.

But she loved him so much that she was blinded. It was exactly what he'd tried to talk to her about the night before, but she'd shut him down. She'd never hear it, never  _have_  it. She was a fighter, she would never let him go so easily.

All because she'd made the stupid mistake of falling in love with him.

And like an idiot, because he had loved her  _so_  much for  _so_  long, he  _let_  her.

"She loves me," he whispered.

"I know she does. And she'd do  _anything_ for you, Jughead."

Against his will and despite how he was feeling at that moment, he felt a smile crook his lips; the confirmation made his stomach flutter. Sure, he knew Betty loved him. But it was always nice to hear it aloud. Be  _reminded_  of it. Especially as he felt like it was all falling apart.

Alice's hand rested warmly on his, but her stare froze him once more, "that's why… if you love her like you say you do, if you love her  _at all_ … you'll do what's right for  _Betty_."

Jughead's voice was small, cracking as he asked her, "and what is that, exactly?"

"If  _this_  is true," she nodded her head towards the jacket once more, "if this is the path you've chosen? Then you need to let her go now, before it hurts too much. Because you will never be able to give my daughter what she needs."

Jughead wanted to fight back, say anything at all to let Alice know he was worthy of her beautiful, amazing daughter. But when he parted his lips, nothing would come out. Perhaps because she had crawled inside his head and pulled out everything he'd been agonizing over lately. And because... she was right. He swallowed, even though his throat was dry and hoarse.

"Thanks for breakfast," he said, collecting his things and heading for the front door. When he got outside, the cold air hit him hard. His eyes burned and he had a lump deep in his throat he couldn't seem to choke down. He looked back at the house, then down at his jacket.

Without another thought, he slipped it back on.

* * *

" _Helloooo_ , space cadet? Did you even hear a thing I just said?" Veronica asked across the cafeteria table, jolting Betty out of her thoughts. She blinked the confusion away, then shook her head bashfully.

"No. Sorry."

Veronica snapped her fingers three times, waving her hand in front of Betty's face, "girl, where are you? You've been out of it all morning. Late night with your  _loverrrr?_ " she purred, but stopped smiling when she noticed Betty squirm uncomfortably at her words. "Or not?"

Betty sighed, her whole body slouching like she'd been holding in her breath all day. She rubbed her forehead with her palm. Veronica was right about one thing: she  _had_  been out of it all morning, and the day had hardly started. She couldn't stop thinking about the night before and how strained things had been with Jughead lately. She barely remembered him leaving this morning; it was almost like he slipped out while she was still sleeping on purpose. Like he was avoiding her.

"Is it Jughead?" Veronica guessed, spot on as usual. Betty's eyes widened in confirmation, causing Veronica to turn toward her friend."C'mon B. You can talk to me, you know that. I know a thing or two about matters of the heart, believe it or not." Betty flashed a small smile in Veronica's direction. She was grateful to have a girl to talk to about these things with. Growing up with two best guy friends (and one best  _gay_  friend) didn't suffice compared to some good old fashioned, girl-talk.

Veronica took a sip of her cola, "Spill, Cooper. I know you're  _dying_  to talk to someone…"

"Okay," Betty finally caved, shifting her body to face Veronica too. She felt foolish, getting so emotional about this. But the fact was… she was terrified that Jughead was slipping away from her. She felt him pushing further and further and she wasn't sure if things were ever going to feel normal between them again. And she knew she had other things to worry about, like all of her various school activities and college, finding her brother… but this was weighing far too heavily on her. She was worried about him. Someone had to. She just couldn't seem to focus on anything else.

Veronica stared at Betty expectantly, waiting for her to divulge her conundrum. Betty was certain that Veronica lived off of drama and cherry cola.

"It's just things have been kind of  _\- different_  - between Jughead and me. I thought it would pass but… it just seems to be getting worse."

"Worse  _how?_ " Veronica asked, nibbling on an apple slice from her breakfast tray. Betty didn't really know how to explain it. Her mouth fell agape as she searched for the words, but nothing seemed to sound right.

"I don't know it's like… it's like he's distant. Distracted." Veronica just laughed and waved off her friend, an air of nonchalance about it.

"Oh. That's just because he's a boy. You just need to rock his world, bring him back to reality and what's right in front of him. You know, sex can be a  _very_  powerful weapon." When Betty looked hesitant, Veronica's mouth dropped open and her eyes seemed to widen twice their size. "W-w-wait. Betty. C'mon now. You guys  _haven't-?_ "

"NO, not  _yet_ , at least," Betty said quickly, defensively. She tucked some hair nervously behind her ear and cleared her throat. She lowered her voice before continuing, "I mean… we were  _going_ to. The night of the jubilee-"

"Oh. My. God. Seriously, B. You need to tell me  _everything._ " Veronica was now even more invested than she'd been before. Betty could tell she couldn't  _believe_  her best friend had been holding out on her with such juicy gossip. "I totally thought you guys had already been there, done that, like 100 times already-"

" _What?_ " Betty choked, shaking her head. "No."

"Well  _why_  not?"

"We got interrupted. By the Serpents -  _remember?_ " She'd already told Veronica (mostly) about that night. She'd neglected to tell her the torrid details of how close she and Jughead had been to having sex for the first time. Veronica looked flabbergasted. She couldn't understand how they had never picked back up where they'd left off.

"And you just… never got back to it?"

"It  _kinda_  killed the mood," Betty replied flatly. She picked at her breakfast pastry. She wasn't hungry. Betty let out another sigh, a frustrated groan. "It's not like I haven't tried since. It's like he's afraid to touch me. Afraid to get too close. He's just shut off. I mean, we used to talk about everything. It's not  _just_  that I feel like I'm losing my boyfriend. I miss my best friend." Veronica shot Betty a look, so she made sure to clarify, "other than  _you_ , of course."

Veronica smiled, leaning back in her chair. Her hand rested on her chin contemplatively as she thought about Betty's situation. Sure, she'd never been in the same situation but she figured she could still try to offer her some seasoned advice - at least from someone who'd dated a whole lot more than Betty Cooper had.

"I think… you need to surprise him," Veronica suggested earnestly. She even added a determined nod, as if to agree with herself. Betty snorted loudly, her head falling back in laughter.

"Right.  _Tried_  that. He hates surprises. Oh, wait… ' _abhors'_  them, as he said."

"Who says  _abhor_? What is this, 1850?" Veronica asked, mock disgust on her face.

Betty just giggled, "Jughead, apparently." She was thankful she had someone like Veronica in her corner; someone who could make her laugh when she felt like crying. Veronica leaned in, taking Betty's hands in hers. She was serious now, full-on best friend mode.

"Go to him, Betty. Go visit him at school. Take him lunch. Just…  _don't_ stop  _trying_. In every relationship, there's always one person doing most of the heavy lifting when the other one can't. Then, you trade off. Jughead is lost right now. Confused. I mean, his whole world is upside down. Show him that you're not going anywhere. That  _you_  are supportive of his decisions, no matter what they are-"

"But-" Betty started to object, more than likely to bring up the subject of the Serpents, but Veronica cut her short.

" _No matter..._  what they are," she reiterated. Betty nodded, but she didn't like it. "He needs to know you love him unconditionally... sexy leather jacket or not. Show him that you will be constant."

It was actually great advice, and Betty found herself nodding along.

"Yeah," she said, nearly breathless. She felt reinvigorated. Excited. She was just going to have to work hard for the both of them. She _loved_  Jughead. She wasn't going to let them waste away and become just another average, high school couple who didn't work out. She knew they were so much more than that.

"Yeah?" Veronica smiled brightly through perfectly purple lips, her eyes glistening with excitement. Betty stood suddenly, full of a newfound energy.

"Yeah! Let's go. I want to see my boyfriend."

"Wait… right  _now?_ " Veronica asked, suddenly regretting her enthusiasm a moment before.

"You're right. I need to see him. Let him know I'm still here. That things haven't changed. And  _you're_  coming with me."

"Who's going where now?" Archie asked, joining the girls with a tray in hand. He hadn't even sat down when Betty threw her breakfast away in the trash beside the table.

" _We_ are going. To see Jug. Now." Archie shot a light glare at Veronica, somehow knowing she was behind this. She gave him a shrug in return.

"Betty, it's the middle of the morning. He's probably in class," Archie reasoned. Betty couldn't think reasonably right now, though. The only thing in her mind was that she needed to see Jughead, and she needed to see him now. She needed to look into his eyes and see that things hadn't changed, that they were okay. And she missed him. They'd gone from spending every waking moment together, to hardly seeing each other at all. To hardly talking. Hardly touching. She had to fight for him.

"So what? By the time we get there, it'll be lunchtime. We'll meet him outside." Betty grabbed her bag, swinging it over her shoulders. She gripped onto the straps so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Her eyes were wild as she asked him, "So? What's it gonna be? You coming, or not?"

Archie stared down sadly at his uneaten meal. He heaved a heavy sigh, pushing the tray away from him.

" _Fine_. But you owe me breakfast."

* * *

Jughead 's conversation with Alice still loomed heavily over him as he pulled into South Side High's parking lot - he couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said and how hard it was going to be to do as Alice had asked. He wondered briefly about telling Betty, but he knew Betty would never forgive her mother for getting herself involved. Especially when the outcome was going to hurt so badly.

He tried to push the thoughts away, although that was proving to be hard - Betty was never too far from his mind. Even still, he had to focus on sorting out all the  _other_  things swirling around in his head. He was starting to feel like this was all too much. It was enough to drive a guy crazy.

Walking up to the gates of his new school, Jughead could still sense how  _wrong_ it felt - at least ever since he'd joined the Serpents. At first he'd found South Side to be a reprieve: he seemed to fit in right away with all the other kids that were rough around the edges, just like him. But already so much had changed.

And it wasn't just one reason. Part of it was knowing that Betty wasn't waiting for him inside the Blue & Gold, two coffees in hand: a vanilla latte for her and a straight black for him, and two beautiful eyes that reflected her adoration for him. His gold was back at Riverdale, and her blue was slumming it on the South Side.

But another part of it was simply... _juvenile._ All those kids in there had rough lives, no doubt about that, but they still held a young air to them. Jughead wasn't quite feeling that innocence any longer. Not since the serpents took him in and his new crowd consisted of an older more seasoned crowd of guys that were concerned about guns and inside jobs than grades and attendance.

He stuck his hands into the cool pockets of his jacket - the very jacket that Betty now leered at. The look of shame and disgust in her eyes when she glared at it the night before was undeniable. Jughead pictured his heart sewn into the seams, and her eyes still looked at it the same. And just like any patches, it would slowly start to fade and become weathered.

"Jug!"

Hearing his name called, he turned around to see Grinder across the street leaning back against his parked motorcycle, a cigarette between his lips. Jughead looked around at all the students walking to the school's entrance, though none of them seemed interested in him.

"You really gonna waste your day in  _there?"_ Grinder asked when Jughead reached him, speaking of the school like it was a place of diseases. He coughed out a smoker's cackle.

Jughead adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and made his way toward the big man, "You  _do_  realize I'm only sixteen, right?"

Grinder flicked his half-smoked cig, "Age isn't important, it's about what you're doing with your life."

" _Ah,_  yes. I think I saw that quote on an inspirational page before," Jughead commented, then his tone fell flat and vapid, "Funny that it doesn't sound inspirational when you say it."

"That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in real trouble," Grinder warned, halfheartedly.

"Hasn't failed me yet."

Pushing himself from his bike, Grinder took a step toward the teen, "We have a few things we need to finish discussing since we got so...rudely interrupted by your bit-."

"Finish that sentence about Betty that and see how fast my loyalty shifts."

Grinder noticed how quickly Jughead's demeanor changed when he brought Betty up, and even with his eyes narrowed and his mouth frowning, his love for the girl radiated from him. Just as he suspected - this was a bit more than just puppy love.  _Good._ That fact would work more in his favor.

"Jug, let me tell you some -  _obvious -_ details about being with the Serpents. We do illegal shit. We get involved with bad people...some of them may even be called  _evil._ Clifford Blossom, just for a recent example. He was so far invested in his own scheme, that he killed his own son in cold blood. Jason wasn't the first one to get killed because he made the wrong choices."

Grinder paused here, waiting to see if Jughead would ask any questions, but his face remained set in stone.

"You best be careful. I had a wife, once. Ellen. She knew I was a Serpent. I didn't even try to hide it from her. And she knew the golden rule: don't ask, don't tell. So never  _once_ did she stick her nose where it didn't belong. But you know what, kid? That didn't even matter. I got involved in a deal, the opposing side found out about Ellen, next thing I know, I'm coming home to see her lying in our bed with her throat slit wide open."

Jughead closed his eyes and breathed in deeply even though he felt like all the air in him was being stolen. Grinder didn't even go into gory details, but the image flashed in his mind like he was watching a movie. And worse… he was picturing this wife as Betty. Her golden hair hanging over the side of the bed, her vacant eyes staring at him blankly, accusing him of letting it happen to her.

It made what little he consumed to rise within his stomach. He didn't even have to ask what Grinder was getting at by telling his story. It was only a stronger confirmation of the advice Alice gave him not a few hours ago: Jughead couldn't have both. It wasn't about him anymore. Not that it ever was.

"Now I'm not trying to tell you what to do," Grinder broke through Jughead's racing thoughts, "I'm just giving you an idea of how this could possibly end."

Jughead didn't answer him. He couldn't tell him that the image he created in his mind would never leave him now.

"I didn't come here to tell you that though," Grinder dismissed as though he didn't just tell him the worst possible story ever. He lit up another cigarette, "Hermione delivered the pillows around three this morning." He seemed to be speaking in code.

Feeling his stomach drop at the mention of Veronica's mom's name, Jughead stepped closer to Grinder so no one else would hear, "What are you talking about?"

The older man blew smoke into the air, "Did you forget already?"

Jughead grew annoyed, "No, about Hermione Lodge. Why is she-"

"Another example of a wife getting pulled into her husband's business with the Serpents."

Jughead sighed. He shouldn't have been surprised. This wouldn't be the first time Hiram pulled Hermione into doing deals for him on the outside. When was this guy going to make an appearance, though? He was  _supposed_ to be back in Riverdale any day now. He had a feeling it would be like reaching a boss level in a video game, and suddenly the heat would be on, and one wrong move could end up getting him killed.

Or someone close to him…

He shivered as the image flashed across his mind again.

"Let's head to the Whyte Wyrm and discuss this some more," Grinder said, pursing his lips to hold his drug as he swung his leg over his bike.

Jughead agreed and headed back to his dad's truck. It probably wasn't a good idea to talk about this in front of a school. And if he stood out there any longer, the security guards were sure to pull him into the building - if they even cared enough to do that.

* * *

"What do you  _mean_  he's not here?" Betty asked the South Side High secretary in the front office. Her name plate read 'Carol.' "I just saw him this morning." Carol looked up at Betty from her stack of papers, blowing a loose strand of hair from her eyes. Her stare flickered between Archie, Betty, and Veronica.

"I  _mean_  he was marked absent for his first two classes. We've tried calling his guardians but-"

"Are you sure he didn't just get overlooked? He's pretty quiet. Tends to blend into the background..." Betty pressed.

"Yeah. It's not like Jughead to skip school," Archie agreed.

" _Jughead?_ " she repeated, confusion painting her features. She was clearly unfamiliar with the owner of the endearing nickname.

"Uh, Forsythe. Jones," Archie corrected.

" _The third_ ," Betty added with a nod.

"God, no  _wonder_ he goes by Jughead _,_ " Veronica quipped under her breath behind them.

"Can you just… check again?" Betty asked, tapping the pads of her fingers against the desk nervously. The three friends stared down the frazzled secretary as she grumbled and thumbed through her papers again. Betty was hoping there was some kind of mistake. But something in her gut told her it was true: Jughead never made it to school today. And given his recent behavior, she wasn't sure why she was so surprised.

Carol looked up at them with a shrug, "Sorry. I wish I could help, but he's not here."

Betty stormed out into the parking lot of the school, her heart pounding against her chest. She was worried, of course, but she was also fuming. She had a pretty strong idea where he would be and it made her face flush and her palms ache.

"Betty," Veronica called out, catching up to her with Archie in tow. "Where are we going now?"

"We are  _not_  going to the Whyte Wyrm," Archie said, reading Betty's thoughts entirely. Betty shot him a look.

"Fine.  _You_  guys can go back to school and  _I'll_ go to the Whyte Wyrm," Betty rattled over her shoulder, her pace never slowing. Archie reached forward, grabbing her arm to keep her from taking off further.

"Stop. Will you just  _wait?_ "

" _No!_ " Betty nearly yelled. She was suddenly very close to tears. "If he's at that bar again-"

" _If_ he's at the bar… then that's his decision." Betty's mouth snapped shut, her teeth instantly clenching. Archie continued, "Betty… I know this is hard. But you can't control him."

"I'm not controlling him, I'm trying to keep him safe-" Betty countered.

"Arch is right," Veronica said, stepping closer to her friend. She comfortingly brought her hands up to smooth down Betty's arms, trying to calm her. "He's going to resent you if you keep checking up on him there. Can't you just ask him where he was when you see him tonight?"

Betty bit her tongue, mulling on that for a moment. She  _knew_  she was acting crazy, and she knew she couldn't  _stop_ Jughead. Whatever this whole phase was, he thought he needed to figure it out on his own. She felt like everything she'd tried to do where he was concerned lately was just pushing him further away.

But she loved him. She wanted to know where he was. Betty reached into her pocket to take out her phone. She'd tried calling and texting him, but still hadn't heard from him. She wasn't just afraid of losing him… Betty was afraid that Jughead would lose himself in the process of trying to live this new life. She needed to find him, even if just to see he was okay with her own eyes.

"You guys go ahead and go back."

"You're not coming with us?" Archie asked. He knew there was no point in arguing with her, she was going to do what she felt she needed to do. She always did.  _Never one to give up, that one._

"I'll be right behind you," she assured him. Veronica arched an eyebrow; she didn't look so convinced.

"You're not going to that bar, are you?" she asked skeptically. Betty gave them a fake grin to ease their worries.

"No. I'm just going to stop at Pop's. I need some time to myself. To think."

It seemed to work. But once they'd gotten back in the car and headed out of the parking lot, Betty zipped up her coat and headed straight over to the next logical place Jughead would be.

But the search was turning out cold.

She tried Pop's Diner, but Pop said Jughead hadn't been in all day. Not even for his morning coffee.

 _That_  was unusual.

But even more disturbing was the story Betty got when she tried him at his foster parent's house. Jughead had driven her by it once but she hadn't met them. It was a nice, small house just barely on the South Side in a decent neighborhood. Betty straightened and smoothed her jacket as she walked up to knock on the bright red door. It only took a few moments before an older woman with blonde hair and an upturned nose answered the door.

"Can I help you?" she asked Betty, drying her hands with a dishrag. Betty tried not to peer past her and into the house. She gave the woman a polite smile.

"Hi, I'm Betty. I'm looking for Jughead, is he by chance around?"

"I wish I knew," the woman said, worry in her eyes. "He never came home three days ago. We called Child Protective Services, but they haven't found anything yet… why? Have  _you_ seen him?"

Betty's mouth opened to answer, but she found herself stumbling over what to say. She'd seen him less than 6 hours ago, but she wasn't sure she wanted to tell  _her_ that. This new information sat like a rock in the pit of her stomach. Sure, she knew he spent most nights over at her house, but she just assumed he snuck out and snuck back in before his foster parent's had woken up.

"N-no," Betty lied. She clasped her hands together in front of her and squeezed to keep from digging her nails into her skin. "No I was just looking for him, myself."

"Do you go to school with him?" Betty gave her a sad smile.

"I used to. I'm his-"

"Betty," the woman sudden said, putting two and two together. "Right, right, right. You're his girlfriend. He mentioned you. A lot." That made Betty happy to hear, although she was still so upset that he wasn't living somewhere safe.

"I am. And you're..."

"Susan." She reached her freshly washed hand out to shake Betty's.

"Thanks for your help," Betty told her. Susan nodded.

"If you see him, let him know we're looking for him. And he's welcome back."

Her next stop was the Whyte Wyrm, even though she'd somewhat promised Archie and Veronica she wasn't going to go there. She didn't hesitate, walking right up to Grinder at the bar, her hands on her hips.

"Where is he?" she demanded. The big, rugged man looked her up and down.

"You again," he croaked. She could see amusement in his annoyance.

"Yes,  _me_  again.  _Where_ is Jughead? And why isn't he staying with his foster family?" Grinder stood, and Betty gulped. She hadn't noticed just how big he was until he was towering over her. Still, her chin remained high, her (shaking) hands planted firmly on her hips.

"He's got new family, now." He blew the last of his smoke from his cigarette in her direction and Betty scrunched up her face, fanning it away from her.

"He's  _my_ family. You can't have him. I know he skipped school today, was he with you?"

"He mighta been. But I ain't no rat," Grinder cackled. "Figure if Jughead wanted you to know where he was, he'd tell you himself."

Fire flashed in Betty's eyes, anger rising within her once more. As if this thug knew Jughead better than her.

"You have  _no_ right to be messing with his head like this! Jughead is smart and good, he doesn't need to be wrapped up in all of this. You're  _ruining_  his life-"

"Hey, Jug joined the Serpents on his own. You need to deal with it or leave him."

"I don't  _want_  to leave him!" she practically shouted.

"Then you need to deal with it," he snarled back. He lurched his huge body back toward the bar, back to nursing his beer. "Now get outta here. Jug said he don't want you hangin' around here." Betty could tell that Grinder wasn't going to be any help. She didn't care to argue with him any further, so she left.

At a loss, Betty wandered around town for a few hours. She was simultaneously looking for Jughead and trying to get her head on straight. She glanced down at her silent phone again: still nothing. She couldn't tell if she wanted to cry or punch something. She didn't want to go home. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. It was nearing dinnertime and beginning to get dark when suddenly she had an epiphany.

She was mad at herself for not realizing it before.

There was only  _one_  last place he would be.

* * *

Jughead ended up back at his dad's trailer, sprawled out on the couch. His hand covered his eyes, a migraine pounding in his head. Something about being in the Whyte Wyrm made him feel sick afterward -  _every time._

Maybe it was the constant loud noise, maybe it was the way all the smoke clung to his jacket like he was the one inhaling the cigarettes one after another. Maybe it was just thinking about all the conversations he's already had in there. Maybe it was because Jason was murdered there. Maybe it was all of the above.

And he was so tired; his whole body was exhausted. He hadn't been getting much - or good - sleep lately, especially last night with Betty. And thinking of her just made his mind race all over again. He thought about the night before. How he could feel the beginning of the end happening. She was slipping through his fingers and trying to grasp firmly onto her was just going to drown both of them. Alice made that very clear. Grinder made it even clearer.

He wondered if there were any sleeping pills in the cupboards.

Before he could get up to find out, there was a loud banging on the front door. He groaned. If that was Grinder coming back to discuss more of this master plan of his, Jughead was prepared to slam the door in his face.

He  _certainly_  wasn't expecting to yank the door open and see Betty on the other side.

"Let me guess. Your phone died," Betty said, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes burning into him. Jughead's hand sheepishly found the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry, Betty-"

Betty stormed past him and into the trailer, discarding her jacket into a nearby chair. Her heart was racing and she had no idea where to even  _begin_ with him. He closed the front door and leaned against it. When she looked at him she could see the shame on his face. He made it so hard to be mad at him. Even though she had been so angry at him she could scream, she resisted. She also resisted the urge to wrap him in her arms and never let go. She had no idea what to do. So instead she just shrugged and tried her best not to get too emotional as she spoke.

"So. You're skipping school now, too?"

Jughead's expression changed, his eyes widening and his lips softly parting. He looked quilty - caught off guard. But then, she could see his features shift to anger - his default reaction to anything unpleasant. He neared her, his own arms folding and his glare mirroring hers.

"You  _went_ to my  _school?_ "

The accusatory made her chest ache. She dropped her arms helplessly, "To see  _you,_  Jug!"

"To check on me, is more like it-" he said, running his fingers through his hair frustratedly. "Betty. You have to stop doing that! I am  _fine-_ " She almost didn't want to tell him she knew he'd left the foster home, but it came tumbling out of her mouth anyway.

"And what, you're living here now?  _Alone?_ " Jughead's arms flew up in exasperation.

"So what!?" He rolled his eyes, "I did it for a long time, and you didn't even know. I can do it now, just fine." Betty grimaced at his asinine reaction.

"Who is even paying your bills? How are you doing this?" She stopped herself short when she saw the abashed look on his face. She huffed out a short, humorless laugh and shook her head. "Right. The Serpents."

"You don't have to say it like that, Betty! It's not as bad as you think it is-"

"So it  _wasn't_  that big, dumb Serpent that got you to skip school today?" Jughead didn't answer, and that was an answer enough. "That's what I thought."

"What do you want me to say? I have other obligations right now."

"Right, and you won't tell me any of them! You didn't tell me about your foster family or about living here… you're slipping away from me Jughead, and I can feel it happening." She didn't mean to start crying but the tears still came. She wiped them away, feeling quite foolish.

"Things are on a need to know basis right now. It's complicated-"

Betty went to him, her hands cupping his face, "Well, I  _do_  need to know. I need to know that you're okay. That nothing is going to happen to you." Jughead never meant to make her worry so much. He hated himself for that -  even more so that he seemed to just get angrier and angrier at her concern.He didn't understand why he couldn't just appreciate how much she cared for him. Every time he made her worry, all he saw was what a burden on her he'd become.

"I can't tell you that, Betty. I don't  _know_  what's going to happen."

"Just tell me what these plans are. Are you getting into something dangerous?" She pushed. He took her hands and moved them from his face. He was getting worked up. It was too much. It was all becoming too much. She stared up at him with so much sadness in her eyes; sadness he couldn't ease because he wasn't in the right mind lately. "Is this what you really want?" Betty finally asked.

"I dunno! Maybe!" 

"Jughead, don't you understand? You're  _better_ than this-" He couldn't help but notice the way she gestured toward his leather Serpent jacket hanging closeby as she said this. 

"And what if I'm not, Betty!?" he finally shouted. "What if I'm not better than this? What if  _this_  is me? Did you ever consider that? Maybe I am not this person you see me as!"

"I know you," Betty said, her eyes glistening. She bravely stepped toward him again. Never one to give up. "I know who you are. Who you really, truly are."

"I don't know if that's true anymore," Jughead said before he could stop himself. Betty sucked in a sharp breath, a gasp. Her eyebrows sloped over two glossy, green orbs. He didn't mean for his words to hurt her like that, but he could literally see the pain on her face. She looked dumbfounded, and he didn't blame her. He had no idea why he'd said it as soon as it left his lips.

He just wanted it all to  _stop_. The self-doubt, the fighting, the angst. His heart couldn't take it, and he knew hers couldn't either. Just for one brief moment, he wanted to shut everything off in his brain and just  _be_  with Betty.

No Serpents. No nosy friends. No meddling mothers. No horror stories about dead wives and ruined lives.

_No._

For just a little while, he wanted to be just like the snow outside: the way it shut everything down and made it all quiet and still. The way it seemed to freeze time and gave everyone an excuse to go slow. Just take in the beauty. Suspended in air. He hadn't felt that way in a long time.

Everything that was going to happen, even their impending doom, could be put on hold for just a little bit. He needed this. And he knew she did, too.

"Get your coat on," he finally told her. Confusion flashed in her eyes, her forehead creasing.

"What?"

Jughead crossed the room, picking her coat up off the back of the chair and tossing to toward her. Betty caught it just before it hit her face; Jughead had thrown it a little too enthusiastically.

"C'mon. Put it on, let's go." Jughead was nearly running now, heading toward the trailer door. He was feeling almost manic at this point, but couldn't stop himself. Still baffled but now intrigued, Betty slipped her arms through the coat as he instructed.

" _Where?_ " she asked, not expecting a real answer. Jughead was putting on his own coat. Betty felt relief inside of herself when it was just his wool-lined jacket and  _not_  the leather one.

"Oh, don't break my heart and tell me you don't trust me," he said, feigning offense. His hand even fell to his chest for extra melodramatic emphasis. Betty felt the corners of her lips twitch and then curve; she hadn't heard him crack a joke in some time.  _Too_ long. There was even a lightness that had been missing in his eyes.

"I just wanted to know what you had in mi-" she began, but before she could finish, Jughead had her by the shoulders. He gave her a brief, playful shake, but his face was dead serious.

"I'm tired of fighting with you-" Betty shrugged her shoulders from his grasp, feeling a bit defensive at his insinuation that what was happening between them lately was  _fighting_. The only fighting she was doing was for was their relationship.

"We're not fighting, Juggie. We're just…" But her words trailed off when she realized she had no idea how to finish that sentence. She bowed her head, staring at her fidgeting hands. She figured she should just quit while she was ahead. She had become increasingly good at ruining good moments with him, lately.

Jughead stepped closer to her. He crooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face back up toward him. Betty's breathing ceased; it had been a while since he'd taken the initiative to touch her like that. Even the look in his eyes was reminiscent of who he was only weeks before. Betty's heart both expanded and deflated, the sting of tears in her eyes at that very thought. She wasn't sure if they were happy or sad, so she didn't dare let them come.

"Betts," he started, his voice soft and low. "We need to get out of here. Out of this town, out of our heads."

Betty found herself slowly nodding, her eyes unable to leave his lips. She was relieved when she saw the hint of a smile - something else she hadn't seen in quite a while.

"Like where?" He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and all the anger and ire that had built up before was starting to thaw. When he gave her a  _real_  smile, the kind that reached his eyes and reminded her of her past and her future, all at once, it melted away altogether. She almost forgot why she was even angry with him before.

"Anywhere but here."

* * *

 _Anywhere but here_  happened to be just on the outskirts of town, up in the hills. It was right along the border of Riverdale and Shepherdsfield, off an old farm access road that hadn't been used in at least half a century.

And  _anywhere but here_  had a view of the whole city.

The truck stopped with a shudder and Jughead pulled the park brake. Before Betty could ask what the plan was, Jughead was already hopping out of his side of the truck. He trudged around, pulling Betty's door open and instantly taking her hand.

"Jug, it's beautiful up here," she said with wonder in her voice. She took in the scenery, all white and glistening and bathed in moonlight. The snow looked like it was glowing. She stood beside him, holding back a shudder. "And freezing."

"Thank goodness for blankets, eh Betts?" he said with a grunt as he hoisted himself up into the bed of the truck and got into his dad's metal storage. When he opened it there were various tools and supplies from his dad's odd jobs, but also an old, musty blanket. Betty scrunched her nose when he held it triumphantly in front of her.

"Well sorry,  _your highness_. Spontaneity has its pitfalls, you know," he teased. "The alternative is most certainly freezing to death, and that's just no way to go." She lowered her head but a giggle escaped as she snatched the blanket from his hands.

Still up in the bed of the truck, Jughead kicked away the remaining snow that hadn't fallen off during the drive up the hill. Once it was fairly clear and mostly dry, he reached a hand down for Betty.

"Coming up?" he asked. Betty twisted her mouth contemplatively and rocked on her heels, as though she were even remotely having to consider it. "C'mon, you know begging isn't my style," Jughead added, coolly.

Betty snorted, bundling the blanket under her arm while her other hand rested on her hip.

"Oh really? And what  _is_  your style, Jughead Jones  _the third?_ " He always felt a lovesick when she said his name like that.

"If you have to ask, I can't help you." Betty finally accepted defeat, her desire to be up there with him outweighing any witty quips. Her hand hungrily reached for his and let him help her up onto the truck. She faced him, their bodies close, their breath shallow. Jughead took the blanket from her and carefully draped it over her shoulders. She gripped it over her chest, leaning into him.

" _Awww_ … aren't you  _sooo_  romantic," she smirked, only a  _hint_  of mockery in her tone.

"I can be," he replied with a grin. Betty's hand slipped from the blanket, gently resting on Jughead's cheek. He was right. They needed this. For just a moment, it felt just like it used to - the way it  _should_ feel. Easy. Effortless.

He leaned down into her lips, brushing his softly against hers. Betty found herself melting into him, and Jughead loved that this was the first time he'd kissed her in a while where he didn't taste her desperation. Her lips moved over his, the kiss deepening as his grip on her tightened.

Their lips slowly parted, and Jughead rested his forehead to hers, his arms wrapping her up in a hug. Once again, Betty choked back a sob.

"I  _miss_  you," she found herself murmuring softly into his lips without meaning to. She didn't want to push him, but she felt it in her heart and she wanted him to know just how much this meant to her. Much to her surprise she felt him nod his head, which nodded hers right along with it.

"I miss you, too."

His eyes lazily opened to see hers staring back at him, large and hopeful and just as beautiful as always. She felt him squeeze onto her again, and then released altogether. Jughead pulled his hat more securely over his ears to keep them warm, then shoved his freezing hands in his pockets to do the same. His eyes cast skyward, taking in the vast, never-ending blanket of stars strewn across a black void. The sky was so clear up here - it was harder to notice back in town. Jughead glanced sideways, noticing Betty  _also_  noticing the stars.

"Makes you feel so small, huh?" he observed, looking back up. They stood silently for a moment while they took it all in, but then he heard Betty sigh wistfully.

"No," she said, a small grin pulling at her lips. She shook her head slightly, her ponytail swaying back and forth like a pendulum. "No, it makes me feel  _invincible_. Like I could do anything." Jughead's eyes trailed back down to her, beside him.

"That is such a ' _Betty Cooper'_  thing to say."

 

" _Shut_  up," Betty chuckled and nudged him lightly.

She looked back up at the stars, but he found himself staring at her. He took in the gentle curve of her neck, the angular line of her jaw. The cold air was turning her nose and cheeks a soft pink, the kind of pink she would get when she blushed. He wished he could take this moment and bottle it up in his memory to keep him warm on nights just like this. Bring it out and play it like an old movie.

Jughead reached for her hand in the blanket, lacing his fingers with hers, and led her to the front of the truck bed. He crouched down, leaning his back against the metal storage box and guiding her down between his legs. She scooted up close, curling up into him as she rested her back on his chest and her head on his shoulder. She peeked up at him as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Do you want some blanket? It's so cold up here…"

"Nah. You're keeping me warm," he told her quietly, his voice tired but at ease. He rested his cheek on her head, taking in the scent of her... and a little bit of the blanket. "That blanket really does stink," he admitted with a soft chuckle. They didn't mind, though.

"Tell me a story," Betty yawned when things got too silent. Jughead's eyebrows raised as he thought on that. He was, after all, a storyteller. He leaned his head down, warming his freezing cheeks in the crook of her neck.

"What kind of story?" she heard him ask, muffled and vibrating against her.

"Tell me one about when you were a kid."

"You were there for all my stories when I was a kid," he reminded her. She gave a slight, lopsided grin.

"No. Something I don't know." She turned her body slightly more toward him so she could see him. "I want to  _know_  you, Jug. All of you. Remember?" Jughead thought back on his childhood - it wasn't a happy one. The only happy times he really recalled involved Archie and Betty, and then eventually Jellybean. His dad was always drunk or in trouble, his mom was always tired and depressed. He couldn't fix his father, and he couldn't make his mother happy. It was the most frustrating thing, both loving and hating them so much.

"Did you ever go on a trip?" Betty asked, trying to give him some kind of jumping off point. He thought about that a bit, but no. None that he could recall. "Not even a day trip?"

Jughead went to tell her no, but suddenly recalled one day when his family drove a few hours away to this national park. It was just his mom, dad, Jellybean, and their family dog, Hamburger. Hamburger had been in the family longer than even Jughead, and he remembered the old dog struggling to even get up in the car that day.

"What was that day like?" Betty asked. She just wanted to hear him talk.

"It was great. One of those rare, happy days. We didn't have them often, but that day my mom was excited. She was singing loud to the radio. She had her bare feet on the dashboard."

Jughead could still see it now, his mother looking back at him, laughing with all of her teeth. Her dark hair whipped around her from the wind, her window rolled down. That was how he loved to remember her.

"My dad was sober and in an uncharacteristically good mood, he actually played with us when we got there. I was about 10, Jellybean was maybe 4…" His sentence tapered off as he recalled the way that day was so vivid, even now, and yet he hadn't thought about it in years.

"So, it was a good day then?"

Jughead hesitated answering her at first, because even his happiest memories seemed to mask even sadder ones. He cleared his throat, shifting a bit beneath her to get more comfortable.

"It  _was_ a good day."

"Then why do you sound so sad?" Betty asked timidly, catching his tone. He couldn't get anything past her. He shook his head, not really wanting to go into it, but knowing she wouldn't stop asking until she knew exactly what was going through his head.

"It's just… it turned out that it was kind of this last trip for Hamburger. He was old and my parents had to put him down the next day, so they decided we'd take him out and treat him to an amazing, last day…" Jughead caught a lump in his throat - not over the loss of his childhood dog, but because he instantly saw the parallels between that day and right now: one last hurrah. One last good time before the inevitable goodbye.

Betty turned herself all the way around this time, resting on her knees between his.

"I'm sorry Jug, I didn't mean to make you-"

"Most of my stories are sad stories, Betty. It's fine," he said, his voice shaking. Betty leaned into him, once again resting her forehead to his, setting her warm hand on his cheek. He always felt calmed by her touch.

"I love all of your stories. Happy  _or_  sad. I love  _you_ , Jug." His hand reached up and rested on hers. He couldn't regret his decision to get away with her tonight, no matter how much harder it made things. He wanted to keep this memory for the rest of his life. It was perfect, just the way it was. But tomorrow was still coming.

"I love you, too."

Once again, Jughead had another happy memory that was tangled up in some kind of sadness.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...** _


	3. time's up.

* * *

_Life can, in many ways, be summed up by Newton's third law of motion: "For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." That is, for every force applied to an object or surface, that object pushes back with equal force._

_This seems to go for people, too._

_But what happens when you've pushed someone too far? What happens when you've tested the boundaries time and time again, and suddenly found yourself launched into a result that you instantly regret? When was the last time you said something that could not be unsaid or done something that could not be undone, thus changing the interwoven strings of your fate altogether?_

_For many of us, our goal in life is to find that person who is going to constantly push back, consistently be there. If we are lucky, we hold onto it. If we are broken, we try to see how much they can take before they break too, give up like you would expect them to do._

_We can only take so much strain before we break, no matter how much we don't want to fall apart._

_That's why another pithy iodism comes to mind: "The straw that broke the camel's back."_

_We're all just a half-played Jenga tower, one slip of the hand away from crumbling into a hundred, scattered pieces._

* * *

Jughead sat alone in his usual booth at Pop's, trying (and failing) to distract himself with his writing. He was hardly able to type out more than a paragraph before his mind wandered back to Betty, his dad, or the Serpents. Every few moments he would find himself just staring out into the darkness of the wooded parking lot outside as the day slowly broke around him, from black to blue to golden daylight.

He'd been mostly alone, aside from a few truck drivers or early morning commuters here and there. It had been relatively quiet when the bell chimed above the door around 6:30 am. Jughead cursed under his breath and shrunk down in his seat, watching from behind his laptop as Archie walked in.

He didn't really know  _why_ he felt like hiding, other than not being entirely sure what to say to his long-time best friend. Things had been strained in every aspect of his life, and after the day before and what had happened with Betty, he didn't feel like having to defend himself to anyone again.

Archie spotted him anyway, but instead of his usual smile he greeted Jughead with an uncharacteristic glower. After rattling off a short to-go breakfast order to the waitress, he crossed his arms over his chest and slowly made his way toward Jughead.

"Well, well,  _well-_ "

"That's a deep subject," Jughead quipped before he could stop himself. The pun was too irresistible. It went right over Archie's head - as usual.

"Jughead Jones... glad to see  _you're_  someone who still exists."

"Please save the lecture, okay? Things have been... a little complicated lately."

"Not just for  _you_ ," Archie muttered under his breath. Jughead wanted to ask his friend just what that meant by  _that_ , but then remembered everything Archie had been going through lately with Fred… and he hadn't been there for him. He'd been so wrapped up in the Serpents and Betty that he hadn't even  _considered_  reaching out.

"Hey…" Jughead said softer now, his words catching in his throat. "H-how's your dad?" He saw Archie's defenses falter, and then fall altogether. Archie gave him a half-shrug, shoving his hands in his letterman's jacket.

"He's been better," he said, reluctantly. "It's going to take a long time for things to feel normal again." Archie apathetically kicked the toe of his sneaker against the linoleum floor, the small squeak sounding between them. "How's yours?"

"Same."

It was strange how different their circumstances were, and yet they seemed to be hurting with the same intensity. And while in the past they could have leaned on one another, now it just felt like neither had the energy or capacity to do so.

"What are you even doing here so early?" asked Archie after a moment, and Jughead didn't mind that he was clearly just trying to keep the conversation going. He knew very well what Jughead was doing there; it was what he was  _always_  doing in Pop's at odd hours. He glanced at his laptop and then back at Archie.

"Working on my novel."

"Right."

They could both sense there was something sitting heavily between them, waiting to be discussed… it was just a matter of who was brave enough to bring it up first.

It was Archie.

"So… about Betty-" he began, addressing the elephant in the room. Jughead sat back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited to see what kind of sound ear-bashing he was about to receive - not that he didn't deserve it. He knew he'd been far too elusive, lately.

Jughead shrugged, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows impatiently, "What about Betty?" He already wanted this part of the conversation over with and it hadn't even started.

"Are you guys… good? Solid?"

Jughead hesitated, almost wanting to tell him what he'd been thinking about lately. Instead, he replied curtly, "We're fine." Still, curiosity got the best of him, "why… has she said anything?" It was Archie who shrugged this time.

"She doesn't  _have_  to say anything. Just seeing her lately I know she's… she's having a pretty hard time with you… you know. Being so distant." Jughead's jaw clenched as he tried to resist snapping back at him that it was really none of his business. He should have known Archie would try to swoop in and save the day. He had a major hero complex.

"Yeah. Well. She won't have to worry about it much longer," he let slip far too easily through his lips. His eyes slightly widened when he realized what he'd said aloud. Archie was maybe a little dense at times, but he wasn't a complete moron. Jughead watched as Archie's face shifted, the thoughts registering in his head as he pieced together just what he meant by such a statement.

"Wait… what? What does  _that_  mean?" Before Archie could even finish his sentence, Jughead was standing and gathering his things. He was kicking himself for even saying anything at all. This was why he'd been avoiding him. He remembered now.

"Just forget it, forget I said anything-" He slapped his laptop shut and shoved it under his arm. "I gotta go." He began to squeeze past Archie when his hand grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

"No, seriously… are you- are you talking about breaking up with Betty?" Jughead jerked his shoulder from his friend's grasp.

"Really, Arch. Please just drop it." The two stared one another down, but Archie decided not to fight it. Jughead lowered his eyes, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

"I'll uh… I'll just see you around, I guess," he muttered.

"Tonight," Archie corrected. "Remember? It's our double-date, the one Veronica insisted on. At the bowling alley?" Jughead's stomach dropped. He remembered Betty mentioning it, but it had completely slipped his mind. Still, he found himself nodding and murmuring out an agreement, just to end the conversation.

"Sure. Yeah. See you tonight."

* * *

"It's date night," Veronica sang as she entered the student lounge. Betty was happy to see Veronica, but not as happy as she was to see the coffee she had in her hand for her. She sat upright in her seat, her hands greedily reaching out for it.

"Are you an angel?"

"Late night again?" Veronica plopped down beside her.

"You have  _no_  idea," Betty yawned. Veronica raised and lowered her eyebrows suggestively, sounding off an intrigued, ' _ooooooh…_ '

"Go on…" Veronica smirked.

Betty just chuckled, "Again, not like that. You really have a one-track mind, don't you?" Veronica shrugged and nodded as if to say, 'pretty much.'

"Did you find him though? You never called me last night."

"Yeah. He was at the trailer."

Betty was still feeling a little sore about it. And while she didn't want to keep using Veronica as a sounding board for her frustrations with Jughead, she also couldn't just let it all sit like a rock in her brain - she needed some kind of release from it.

"Wait, the trailer as in...  _FP's_ trailer?" Veronica wondered after a quick swig of her coffee.

"Yeah, but that was after I'd checked  _literally_  everywhere else he could possibly be. Including his foster parent's house. Which, might I add, he's not even living at anymore." Veronica's head reared back in confusion, and then she was shaking her head disapprovingly.

"What is he  _thinking?_  How does he expect to survive on his own?" Betty felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she remembered the answer to that question:  _The Serpents_. They were keeping him fed and his bills paid. She had to admit she was grateful he was being taken care of, but she knew he would end up feeling even more indebted to them than he already had before.

"So? Did you let him have it when you finally found him?"

"Well… I started to. But then… I don't know. Something changed in him, and it was that fast," she said, snapping her fingers. Her heart swelled while she recalled their time together the night before under the stars. "It was like he was himself again. And I just wanted to enjoy it for a little bit because lately… I never know how long it will last. I'm worried about him."

When Betty really thought back on their childhood together, she'd never realized just how much of her life she'd spent worrying about Jughead Jones. Sure, when she was young she'd only had eyes for Archie, but there was always this pulling in her heart towards the dark haired, beanie-wearing boy - the boy who'd spent most of her life living across the street from her.

They were just kids, maybe around second grade, when she finally began to realize that the Jones' were different than her family, or even Archie's. Jughead came and went as he pleased with little to no parental supervision. She knew they fought a lot, and Jughead spent a lot of time at Archie's just to be away from home. He hid out in her treehouse more times than she could count.

Because of this, Betty did little things for Jughead whenever she could. So many times she'd packed extra in her lunch just to share with him when she started to notice his lunches becoming smaller and smaller - sometimes none at all.

"My mom always packs too much," she'd say, shoving potato chips and cookies across the lunch table at him. Jughead would look back at her skeptically, as if he knew the truth, but the hunger would always win out.

That same year, there was a school field trip to the aquarium. All the kids in class were supposed to bring their signed release as well as $10.00 for admission. When the day finally came, Jughead was the only kid who hadn't brought either. When Betty had asked him about it, he'd told her he didn't even bother bringing it up to his parents because they always talked about not having any money - that was maybe the first time Betty started to understand what it meant to be poor.

Betty remembered how heavy her heart felt when she gazed back at him, sitting all alone at his desk as she waited in line with all of their excited peers. One by one, they each handed the teacher their permission slip and money on their way out to the bus.

She didn't think twice as she slyly slipped the money and signed note in her pocket.

"Elizabeth?" the teacher asked, her hand out, waiting for her.

"I forgot mine," Betty uttered. The teacher glanced at her watch and sighed.

"Do you want me to call your mother? I'm sure she wouldn't mind dropping it off-" she offered, but Betty just smiled.

"No thanks, Miss. Gold. I'll just stay behind with Jughead."

It wasn't fair that he was the only kid who didn't get to go, just because he didn't have a measly ten  _bucks?_ And if there was always something Betty cared about, it was doing what was right. Jughead eyed her suspiciously as she took her seat beside him.

"Pretty weird you forgot it at home when it was in your hand on the way to school this morning…" he noted. His eyes narrowed and his cheeks were red; Betty hadn't meant to embarrass him. "You didn't have to stay behind just because of me," he grumbled, mostly because he didn't know how to say  _thank you_. Even at 8 years old, Betty understood pride, and Jughead had a lot of it. His eyes wouldn't meet hers as he softly added, "I know how much you wanted to go."

"Nah. It's okay. My dad took me and Polly to the aquarium last weekend. There's some fish… that's about it," she promised him. Jughead's frown bent and then broke, and the two of them spent the day coloring and spending time together like old friends do.

She used her $10.00 to buy them each a milkshake at Pop's after school.

Betty never regretted staying behind for him, and even though he never wanted to hold her back, she knew he was glad she was there with him that day.

As she sat across from Veronica now, Betty still didn't regret any of the strife with Jughead. She  _knew_  him, maybe better than he knew himself. And she would never stop advocating for him, never stop wanting to make the world a better place for him - even when he made it hard.

After all, wasn't that what you were supposed to do for someone you love?

"Girl, I'm sorry. I do  _not_ envy you, that must be so hard," Veronica said, reflecting on everything Betty had told her about her struggles with Jughead lately.

But Betty just shrugged, a small grin curving her pink lips, "He's worth it."

* * *

Jughead skipped school.

_Again._

With everything swimming around in his head lately, it felt like the  _least_ of his worries. It just seemed so trivial to sit and learn about the Pythagorean Theorem while his world was falling apart around him.

So once again, he found himself at the Whyte Wyrm, listening to Grinder, Tank and a few of the boys hash out their ' _brilliant'_  plans - which turned out to be blackmail, this time. At least it wasn't as sinister as ransom or cleaning up a body… yet.

Hiram Lodge, who still hadn't made his long-anticipated appearance in Riverdale, was going to be on thin ice when he returned. He was also going to be on parole, and that meant he wouldn't even be able to look in the direction of the Serpents without his parole officer dragging him back to federal prison.

"So I'm thinkin' if we get some quality dirt on the guy we can turn the tables a bit. Make him do  _our_ dirty work for a change," Grinder explained. "I figure a bigshot like Hiram Lodge knows the best lawyers around. And those lawyers come with a pretty hefty price tag… that's the kinda lawyer we need to get our boy, FP."

The idea, in essence, was foolproof: Get some dirt on Hiram and blackmail him into either buying his dad a good lawyer or buying off the judges in general. Simple. But Jughead never trusted things that seemed too good to be true. He knew better than to get his hopes up. Life seemed to have a way of disappointing him.

"What makes you think someone like Hiram Lodge would care to help someone like  _my_  dad?" Jughead asked, wearily.

"He probably doesn't. But he  _owes_ him," Tank piped up. "FP has done a lot of shady things for that man." Grinder nudged Tank to shut up, and Jughead wasn't sure he even wanted to know the extent of what his dad had done for Hiram… or just how long it had been going on.

"Hey, Snakes!" a menacing, unfamiliar voice bellowed from across the bar. Jughead and the rest of the guys all looked toward the entrance where a huge, rough looking man was waiting. On each side of him was another guy; one was looked scrappy and lanky, the other stout and mean. And none of them looked all too pleasant.

"What did I say about coming in here?" Grinder called back. His voice was calm, but Jughead could still pick out the threatening undertones. "Christ, not this again," Grinder grumbled under his breath, although Jug had never seen these guys before. Grinder tipped back the last of his beer and slowly got off his stool, "C'mon. We got company." He nodded his head toward the three men, and Jughead followed along with Tank and another younger Serpent who went by Sweet Pea.

"Take it outside boys. I don't want blood on the floor," Donnie, the bartender, called out from behind the bar. Everyone ignored him, and Jughead found himself even more apprehensive with that warning than he'd felt before.

"I think you have something that belongs to us," the big one said when they got closer to him. His etching on his jacket just read, ' _Tiny,_ ' which Jughead found ironic given his massive stature.

"Yeah, well, that was FP's debt. Not ours," Grinder told them, carefully eyeing each one. Tiny ran his large hand over his goatee.

"Right, and I heard your boy got himself locked up. So it  _is_  your problem." Jughead was burning up with the mere mention of his dad and the condescending way Tiny had said that. "Guy's a bum. It's about time they took care of 'im," Tiny had a cigarette pursed between his lips as he lit the tip. His eyes fell over to Jughead, who just glowered back at him. "You guys just lettin' anyone in these days? Who's the runt?"

"Jughead is Serpent royalty, show a little respect." Tank spoke up, although Jughead really wished he hadn't. "He's FP's boy." Tiny looked him up and down, unimpressed.

"That's unfortunate," replied Tiny.

"You ain't gettin' anything out of us, and you're in Serpent territory, so I'd watch your back if I were you," Grinder warned. Tiny did not look remotely scared off by his words.

"I think it's you who better watch your back, snake. I think you know what we're capable of. How  _is_  Ellen, by the way?" Grinder shoved Tiny back, and he immediately got in his face. The only thing to stop it from turning into a straight up brawl was Donnie yelling to knock it off from behind the counter.

"Keep her name out of your filthy mouth, you insect," Grinder sneered. Tiny grinned back at him.

"You'll tell FP we stopped by, wontcha? I think he's gonna want to come to some kind of arrangement sooner than later." He turned to Jughead, slapping him on the shoulder, causing him to wobble a bit. "And you. Take what's happening with your ol' man as a learning opportunity. Don't wanna repeat his mistakes."

Still fuming and ever the hothead, Jughead couldn't stop himself before the words slipped from his lips, "If you wanna talk about mistakes, maybe ask your parents, mouth-breather."

Tiny just stared back at him, and Jughead swallowed hard, once again taking in Tiny's size and regretting his decision immediately. Tiny let out a deep, cackly laugh, and then swiftly hauled back and punched Jughead right in the eye. He could hear the loud cracking sound of Tiny's fist hitting him. It was so loud and painful that Jughead wondered if he'd broken anything, and before Jughead knew it he was on the dirty, barroom floor.

Jughead cradled his eye with his palm, glaring up and the three, snickering Roaches. The lanky one leaned down and got a good look at him. Jughead could see a mouthful of golden, metal teeth as he spoke. He was pale with dark circles pooling under his eyes.

" _Heyyy…_  I think I seen you around, before. You're always typin' away at that crappy little diner." Jughead didn't respond, his chest slightly heaving from all the adrenaline. "Yeah. I also seen you around town with that blonde girl… Alice Cooper's kid?" he added cryptically. "She your girlfriend?" Jughead had to keep himself from lunging at the guy for even speaking about Betty, but he knew that would only make things worse. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest now.

The Roach whistled and went on, "Wow. She's a  _real_  pretty one. Why don't you tell her we said hello." He paused, tilting his head to the side, his deep set eyes staring at Jughead with a certain craziness in them that made him instantly uneasy. "Or you know what? Maybe we'll just tell her ourselves."  
The threat made Jughead's mouth go dry and his throat tighten.

Tiny pointed a finger in Grinder's direction, "You let FP know he better find a way to settle his debt from behind bars, or we will find  _other_  ways to collect." His eyes trailed down to Jughead on the ground before he flicked his cigarette down at him, "starting with his boy." And with that second looming threat, the three men left the bar.

Grinder reached down and gruffly yanked Jughead back up off the floor, "I told you that smart mouth of yours was gonna get you into trouble," he mused. He called over his shoulder to the barkeep, "hey, Donnie! Give us some ice!" Jughead's fingers ghosted over the tenderness around his left eye and he winced in pain - this was definitely gonna leave a mark. And he wasn't quite sure just how he was supposed to explain this one to Betty-

_Betty._

He was seething again, angrily recounting what that Roach had said to him. He knew who Betty was, and worse… he'd threatened her. Jughead's pulse was racing, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"Who the hell was that?" Jughead hissed. Donnie handed him a bag of ice wrapped in a cloth. Jughead's vision was already blurring in his left eye as he pressed the cold pack against it.

"Those would be Roaches," Sweet Pea spat, leaning against his poolstick. "They're from Shepherdsfield. If you think the Serpents are bad, you have no idea."

Jughead adjusted the ice on his eye, "What do they want with my dad?"

Grinder returned with a refilled mug of beer and handed it to Jughead. He wanted to tell him no thanks, that he didn't drink, but he held onto it anyway.

"Your dad left a lot of loose ends when he went in," Grinder explained. "The Roaches are just one of them. Seems your dad owes them a bit of money."

"For what?"

Grinder sparked up a cigarette, "Don't know. Apparently, your dad had somethin' on the side we didn't know about. 'Cause  _we_ don't usually do business with the Roaches - they are into the harder stuff. It ain't pretty."

"Like… like what, exactly?"

"Typically they get called for the stuff we  _won't_ do." Grinder didn't have to say more, his face said enough. "He talked about Betty," Jughead said aloud.

"So I heard. You just had to open that mouth of yours, didn't you?" Grinder said, shaking his head. "My advice? You better distance yourself from her as much as possible. 'Cause I don't see FP bein' able to give them what they want from behind bars. And they will come for you. And that means everyone you love."

* * *

It was date night.

And Betty wasn't sure why she was even surprised that Jughead was MIA.

Yet again.

"I swear we need to strap a GPS on that kid," Veronica smirked behind her soda. She watched as Betty pressed her cellphone up to her cheek, trying to get ahold of Jughead for what felt like the millionth time this week alone. When she noticed Archie watching on with almost as much concern as Betty, she cleared her throat, setting her elbows on the table, "Any volunteers? Archikins?"

He gave her a quick glance, but his eyes pulled back to Betty when she lit up. She stood excitedly, stepping out of the booth.

" _Hey!_  Where are you? You're, like…  _super_  late-" Betty's words trailed off and her face twisted after a moment, listening to the phantom voice on the other end of the phone line. She turned away from them, her voice small, "oh. No. Th-that's okay I understand…"

Archie and Veronica shared a look, knowing just from Betty's crestfallen tone how disappointed she was - something they'd witnessed far too often lately. In the time that Betty and Jughead had been dating, neither Archie or Veronica had ever seen them so out of sync. They'd even discussed it before the date. Veronica had reasoned that this is just something most couples go through.

 _Growing pains_.

But Archie didn't feel as optimistic as she did - not after talking to Jughead earlier that day. He hated keeping it to himself, but he was holding out hope that he'd just caught him in a bad moment or had inferred something that wasn't actually there. His tardiness had him doubting that, however.

"Alright just get here when you can," Betty said, the other half of the conversation going unheard. She hung up and they could see her shoulders tense as she gripped the phone in her hands, tightly. So tightly, she thought she might break it.

"B?" Veronica called to her, her voice sounding far away. Betty snapped out of it.

" _This_  is what I've been talking about," Betty choked out, turning to face her waiting friends. She slunk back into her lonely, empty side of the booth, defeated. Veronica's hand snapped forward to comfortingly rest on Betty's.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sure everything is going to be just fine-"

"No," Betty croaked, her eyes wet and glossy. "No, things are different.  _He's_  different. I-I  _know_  him. He's still pushing me away-"

"You remember back when he transferred? FP said that he does this, Betty," Archie offered, half-heartedly. "He shuts down, pushes people away. We just have to keep fighting back-"

"I'm so tired of fighting back," Betty admitted, weakly. "I… I feel like I'm losing him, a-and I don't even know  _why_ , Archie." Betty's teary eyes stared past them as she bit onto her nails nervously. Veronica handed Betty a napkin before the tears spilled over. Betty dabbed the wetness away and sniffed, "we had an amazing time together last night. Things felt… normal again. And now today? I don't know. Everything is weird again. Am I doing something  _wrong?_ -"

Archie was unable to hide the guilt on his face as he recounted his short but cryptic conversation with Jughead that morning, and Betty caught it instantly - he was never good at hiding things from her. Her eyes darkened, her eyebrows pulling together.

" _What?_ " she asked him, her chest feeling tight. He sighed, shaking his head and slouching back in the booth.

" _N-nothing._ "

"No, Arch. Really. What's  _up?_ " Veronica pressed as well, letting go of his hand that had been clasping hers. She folded her arms over her chest, telling him accusingly, "You  _totally_  know something. You look  _crazy_  guilty-"

Betty leaned forward, her stare intense as she interrogated him, "Do you know what is actually going on with him? Did Jughead  _talk_  to you?"

Archie quite literally felt backed into the corner of the booth, both sets of expectant eyes honing in on him.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, but when he saw Betty's face fall and a short gasp escaped her lips, he backpedaled. He didn't want to be the messenger. He silently cursed Jughead for getting him into this situation in the first place as he rubbed his forehead, anxiously, "I mean,  _no_. Kind of. Just… Betty, just talk to him-"

"I  _tried_  that already," Betty said through almost gritted teeth, louder than she'd meant to. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't causing a scene, "Archie, if you know something about Jughead,  _please_. You need to tell me."

"Betty, look. Veronica is right. Jughead's just going through a lot with his dad and everything, he's all mixed up right now. Believe me, It's not you, you're perfect. He… he doesn't think he's good enough for you." Betty's eyes filled with tears again and she clenched her jaw. Against her will, she felt her fists begin to ball, the nails fitting into their scarred divots left behind, but she stopped herself.

"You know what, Archie? I  _really_  wish guys would stop saying that to me."

They both remembered that moment perfectly: Archie standing before her in front of her house, staring at a beautiful, sad girl in a wasted dancing dress.

"You're so perfect. I'm not good enough for you, Betty," he'd said. "I'll  _never_  be good enough for you."

It felt like so long ago, when really it had only been a couple months since that first dance of the school year - since the night Archie, under no uncertain terms, told her he'd never feel that way for her.

She didn't know at the time what a blessing that was, that the real person she was supposed to be with had been there  _all along_ \- even that very night. She remembered all too well what had happened after she'd fled Cheryl's party, after Veronica and Archie disappeared into the closet together.

The tears had come instantly  _and in front of everyone_ , much to Betty's embarrassment. She couldn't recall the catty comment Cheryl had shot toward her back on the way out, she was gone too fast. She furiously wiped away at the tears streamed down her cheeks as she walked briskly into the night, only one destination on her mind: Pop's.

She couldn't go home. Not like this. If she went home in tears, all she'd be doing is confirming exactly what her mom had said about Archie… and she'd been right.

The warm, familiar glow of Pop Tate's diner didn't have the same welcoming luster it usually did. Maybe because her mind was muddled with memories of her and Archie, laughing in a booth over fries and milkshakes. At the time, she didn't know if she'd ever get him out of her head or her heart.

The bell chimed over the door as she entered. Betty was still trying to wipe away the signs of crying from her face as she dragged her feet up to the bar.

"Hey, li'l lady," Pop greeted behind the counter, "didn't expect to see you so early."

"Hey Pop," Betty sighed, unable to hide the melancholy from her voice.

"You alright?" She just nodded, fearing she might cry again if she told him what was  _really_  wrong.

"Long night. Could I just get a cheeseburger and a vanilla shake?" she asked, sliding up onto one of the stools. She looked at the time, realizing that if Archie did try to come find her, this would be the first place he'd look, "to go, please?" He smiled and turned to start her order, but Betty stopped him. "Oh, and Pop? If… if Archie comes in here looking for me, don't tell him I was here, okay?"

"Sure thing, Miss Cooper," he nodded, His gaze moved past her and into the nearly empty diner, "but I can't promise  _he_  won't."

Betty turned her head slowly to see who Pop was referring to, not at all surprised to see Jughead over in the corner, pounding away at his laptop with his usual cup of black coffee beside him. She felt a small smile crook her lips as she looked at her oldest friend, engrossed in his work like always. She got up and neared him, wondering if he'd even noticed her come in. Feeling himself being watched, his eyes lifted and flickered between her and the computer screen. He did a double take. His normally broody face cracked a small grin as he looked her up and down.

"Well, hey there, Cinderella. Fleeing the ball before midnight?" he mused.

"No Back-to-School dance for you, Juggie?" she teased lightly.

"Nah, you know me. I'm more of the  _sit-in-silence_  type. I tend to blend in with the ' _over fifty, senior discount crowd_ ' more than my peers."

"You  _are_ pretty curmudgeonly…" she noted.

"Why, thank you. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." His smile faded when he saw the puffiness under her eyes. "Uhh… what's going on? You okay, Betts?" She clutched her balled-up cardigan to her chest. She didn't have to answer, he knew just by looking at her that she wasn't okay.

"Can I sit for a bit?" she asked, tiredly gesturing toward the table. Jughead closed his laptop, giving her a nod.

"Yeah… sure."

But instead of sitting across from him in the booth, Jughead was surprised when Betty rounded the table and sat down right beside him. He tensed, unsure what exactly was happening. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, what had happened... but unfortunately, he didn't have to. He knew this had to do with Archie and it both killed him and infuriated him - especially since he wasn't particularly happy with Archie, himself.

Once she was nestled in safely beside him, Betty choked out a soft sob, crying into her hands. Jughead was puzzled. His arm hovered over her shoulders as he tried to decide to put his arm around her, pull her in for a hug, anything. This wasn't necessarily his forte. Finally, he rested his hand on her smooth, bare shoulder.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked, lowly.

"Not really," she told him, and he was relieved, until she went on, "it's just  _Archie_ -"

"Yup. Figured as much," he mumbled under his breath. This wasn't the first time he'd been there for Betty when Archie had let her down - not ever on purpose. Archie just never seemed to have the same self-awareness in his actions that he and Betty had.

"So… What did our peanut-brained friend do now?" Jughead asked, probably a little too disdainfully. She looked up at him with giant, sad green eyes that almost reminded him of an animated, Disney-drawn woodland creature. He couldn't help but stare back at her, even though he was uneasy under her heartbroken gaze. He hadn't seen her this close up, maybe ever. Their faces were close and he could feel her warmth radiating off of her. It was nice.

"Nothing," she finally whispered. She took in a long, shaky breath before leaning her head on his shoulder and squeezing onto him. Instinctively, he rested his cheek on her head and tried to remember the last time he'd been hugged.

It was Jellybean. Right before she was taken away from him.

"Why doesn't he love me, Juggie?" she asked, so quietly, he almost didn't hear it. His heart clenched in his chest. His palms grew sweaty and his vision blurred.

He'd asked himself the same question about Archie for the last ten years. How could he  _not_  love someone like Betty Cooper?

His voice was nearly a whisper as he told her, "Because he's crazy, Betts."

"Miss Cooper. Order's ready," Pop interrupted their moment, handing her a doggie bag and a milkshake in a to-go cup. Betty was reluctant to go, but she knew it was just a matter of time before Archie came looking for her. She almost snorted at herself for being so optimistic - she only  _wished_ Archie was going to come looking for her.  _That_ was part of the problem.

She turned and gave Jughead another small smile, and it seemed a little more real this time.

"Thanks."

He smirked back at her, "not quite certain what I did to help... But you're welcome."

Betty hurried out of the diner, and sure enough, Archie  _did_ come looking for her not long after. And just like Betty before him, he came and sat with Jughead. Once again, Jughead had found himself in the middle of Archie and Betty's little dance, as he had so many times in his life. But by now, he was tired of it. He didn't feel like being Betty's shoulder to cry on or Archie's training wheels. They had to figure this out alone.

"Whatever happened, just talk to her. You know." Jughead told him. "It'll go a long way. Would've gone a long way with me."

Archie took his advice, but Jughead still fired off a warning text to Betty that night:  _He's on his way to you now. Get your game face on, Cooper._

* * *

Even though Jughead had promised Betty he'd get to their 'double-date' as soon as he could, he'd been stalling. He didn't know how he was going to face her - face  _all_  of them - knowing what he had to do. There was no more putting it off, especially after his run in with the Roaches.

' _Why can't things just be_ normal  _with you, Jughead?_ ' Betty had asked him on his birthday, and those words had stuck in his head far more prominently than even she knew. She might have loved him, darkness and all, but he knew a little part of Betty would always want a normal, functioning life. She was settling - and  _worse_ , she was in danger every day she stayed with him. He clenched his teeth and saw red as the words ' _go to hell serpent slut_ ' flashed in his mind.

As he neared the bowling alley it was emptying out - he'd missed the date entirely. He spotted Archie, Veronica and Betty just outside in the parking lot. Veronica was clearly comforting a distraught Betty and it physically hurt to know he'd let her down.

And that it was just about to get worse.

Before he could change his mind, Betty spotted him. He flinched at first, but there was no malice in her eyes. Only relief. It was that kind of love she had for him that made this so much harder.

" _There_  you are. I was worried," Betty said. The words wrapped around his heart and squeezed. How was he ever going to be able to do this? She looked beautiful, but he could tell she'd been crying. He never wanted to make her cry.

She broke away from Veronica and walked quickly to him. She enclosed her arms around him, pressing a kiss into his jaw. As she pulled away, he saw the confusion in her eyes. She had caught his black eye in the glow of the streetlight.

"Wait, Juggie… what happened? How did you get that?"

She instinctively raised her hands up to cup his face, but he took them in his own and lowered them back down.

"I'm  _fine,_ " he snapped and pulled slightly away from her.

Betty's concerned stare shifted to one full of frustration, her forehead creasing. Her throat felt like it was on fire, "No. No, you are  _not_   _fine_ , Jughead. Did you get into a  _fight?_ " He lowered his head; he certainly wasn't going to tell her about the Roaches.

"Look… Betts-" But he stopped himself, his eyes timidly falling toward their audience. Veronica and Archie were watching on curiously with big, worried eyes.

"Who did that to you?" Veronica asked. Archie was already rolling up his sleeves as though he was ready to take care of whoever the assailant might be right then and there.

"Can we just… can we go somewhere to talk please?" Jughead asked Betty, his voice a low rumble. It didn't stop Archie and Veronica from hovering, however. " _Alone?_ " Jughead clarified. He tried not to notice the wary look on Veronica's face, or the way Archie shook his head at his friend.

_Don't do it, man._

"C'mon Arch. Let's give them a minute," Veronica suggested hesitantly, tugging at Archie's sleeve. After initial reluctance, he followed. Veronica shot her best friend one last glance that said, ' _we'll be right here if you need us_.'

Jughead was glad she had them. She was going to need them. She was going to be okay.

"Well?" Betty breathed with a shrug once they were 'alone,' ...even though Veronica and Archie were only a few yards away pretending not to listen. Betty didn't care - her only focus at this moment was Jughead's somber eyes. She could tell something was  _really_  wrong just by the way they wouldn't meet hers, the way his mouth was set in a hard line. She hadn't seen this look on his face since his birthday party. She swallowed, her heart beating so hard in her chest that she could hear it thumping in her ears. The darkness she'd seen in his eyes that night, everything she'd been fighting against, was back.

And he was letting it win.

Betty reached forward and gripped onto his hand, which sat limply in hers and didn't squeeze back.

"Juggie. What is going on? Please… just,  _talk_  to me. Is it your dad?"

Then, he took in a sharp breath and shook his head. His mind was flooded with images of Grinder's wife, of those Roaches, and the insinuation that they had something to do with it all.

"Betty..." he started, his voice raspy and raw. She shifted her weight on her feet, nervously wrapping her arms around herself because  _he_  wasn't. He bit his lip, feeling his eyebrows pull together. His breathing became shallow as she looked back at him like a dog he had to put down.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked him. He opened his mouth to answer, but still hadn't found the right words -  _were_  there right words? Betty knew whatever this was about, it was killing him.

Then, all at once, it clicked in Betty's head: everything she'd sensed over the last few weeks.

Betty's heart free-fell to her stomach the moment she saw the tears flash in his eyes and she realized that the conversation they'd started at her house the other night wasn't over. She steadied her shaking hands by shoving them in her pockets and prayed what she  _thought_  was about to happen wasn't  _really_  about to happen.

Betty cut him off before he could even begin, "Let's just go. W-we can go to  _Pop's_ -" She hoped she could put off the inevitable… at least one more day.

"Wait-" he tried to interject, but she was rambling over him. She stepped towards him, her hands sweetly brushing down the sides of his face, as though her touch would remind him that she was  _real_. That she  _loved_  him. That he'd be crazy to throw it all away.

"O-or not. We can just go home-"

His hands found her shoulders and held her in place so she couldn't breeze past him toward his truck, "No, Betty-" She shrugged his hands off of her, hot tears springing to her eyes.

"No, wait," her voice trembled. She was trying to catch her breath. She couldn't. "Wait…" Jughead watched helplessly as she struggled to keep it together.

" _Betty…_ " He was trying to stay strong, but his voice cracked, giving him away.

He didn't want to do this. He  _hated_  that he was doing this. He knew from the moment Betty Cooper kissed him back that it would inevitably lead to heartache - because good things didn't come to Jughead Jones often, and if they did, they never lasted.

He never anticipated that he'd be the one breaking his own heart along with hers. He never wanted it to be this way.

She stared up at him, her vision of his face blurring from the tears. She blinked them away just to see him clearly - she knew this might be the last time.

"Before you say what I think you're going to say just…  _don't_. Okay?" She shook her head and tears escaped down her cheeks. "Don't say what I think you're going to say.  _Please,_ " her voice curled into a beg. "Please, Juggie."

Jughead folded his lips and breathed slowly through his nose. He was trying desperately to keep his own composure - they couldn't both fall apart. He couldn't go back now. This was for the best. Maybe not for him, but it certainly was for her. One day, she'd thank him for this.

Betty and Jughead were always on borrowed time.

And now that time was up.

He stared down at his shoes as he told her quietly but determinedly, "this isn't working, Betty."

And there it was, the four words she'd been dreading since the moment she saw him slip the Serpent's jacket over his shoulders that night.

Betty cupped one hand over her mouth to catch her sob, the other against her heart. It felt like it literally cracked in half in her chest. He gave her what he tried to pass off as a careless shrug, wiping his nose with his sleeve. He couldn't look at her. If he did, he'd lose it.

"I think we both know that."

She tried desperately to meet his gaze, but he refused. Her hands dug into his arms as she wept, " _No_ , no we  _don't_  both know what. Why would you even think that?"

His mind went blank, his response nearly robotic, "I told you before. We're just too different-"

"Wh-why do you insist on pushing away everyone who loves you!?"

Betty saw the levee break and something in Jughead snapped.

"Just… stop.  _Stop_  it! Don't you see that it's not in your best interest to love me, Betty? I'm just going to keep hurting you," He nearly shouted, and she froze at the suddenness of it all. "Stop. Please. You're not gonna talk me out of this again-"

" _Again?_ " she breathed. She tried to think back on how strained things had been, how long he'd been wanting to do this. When exactly he must have fallen out of love with her.

"It's over."

Her knees felt weak, and she wanted more than anything to be able to fall into his once-safe arms and let him make it okay again. None of this made sense - how could the one person she never believed would  _ever_  hurt her, end things like this? And how could he remain so stoic, so seemingly unmoved, through this whole exchange?

"But… but I  _love_ you," she cried. The pain in her words felt like a bullet to Jughead's heart.

He wanted to tell her love wouldn't cross their wide divides. Love wouldn't piece their lives together.

Love wouldn't  _keep her safe_.

"I love you too, Betty," he found himself saying, simply because it was true. It just wasn't about that. "…but it's not enough. It will never be enough."

"It was enough, once," she replied, to which Jughead could say nothing.

As she realized that there was no reasoning with him, a slow-burning rage began to simmer beneath her skin. He was dead set on pushing her and everyone who loved him away. That was the worst part of all: she  _knew_ he loved her. He was imploding and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

"Why are you really doing this?" she challenged him, angrily. "You don't  _have_  to do this-"

"I  _can't!"_ he finally yelled. He could see Archie attempting to charge over from his peripheral, but Veronica held him back. He lowered his voice, "I just can't be… what you need me to be right now. And it's not fair to you."

Her face softened. She slowly moved toward him again, gently taking his face in her hands. She made him look into her eyes, made him look at what he was doing. For a brief second, she could see his struggle, see the real Jughead deep down who didn't want this.

"You don't need to be anything, Jug. Nothing more than you already are. I don't want  _anything_  else from you. I will  _never_  stop fighting for us."

He let her hands linger on him this time. He almost gave in as he stared into her pleading, desperate eyes. He leaned into the softness of her hands like a security blanket, taking in her scent one last time, imagining what it would be like to never be touched by her again. He would rather it be because of her own choice, not because something outside of his control took her away.

Like what had happened to Grinder's wife.

He would never be able to live with himself if something happened to her because of him.

He was only going to keep hurting her if he didn't let her go and for that, he didn't deserve her. He had to break her heart. It was the only way she wouldn't fight for him.

"I can't keep playing house with you, pretending like this is ever going to be something more than it is. People like you and me? We don't end up together, Betty. We don't  _get_  the happily ever after and you're delusional if can't see that. You need to let me go," he said definitively, even though his voice shook. He took her hands from his face and cupped them in his own. He stared at them as he told her, "You need to take care of yourself. I don't want you to keep trying to save me."

He didn't mean a word of it. She could tell even then that he regretted each and every syllable. But instead of taking it back, she watched him set his jaw. She slowly let her hands slip from his and it was the saddest disconnection she'd ever felt.

"Why did you even bother making me fall in love with you if you weren't going to stay?"

She could see the lump in his throat, hovering just above his Adam's apple. His chin wavered, his eyes filled with tears. But he wiped them away quickly.

He wasn't going to change his mind. The boy she loved, the one so afraid of being rejected or abandoned, had won. He was doing it to her because he couldn't believe that she wasn't going to do it to him first.

It killed her.

But because she loved him so much, she decided to give him what he wanted.

She shook her head, a humorless laugh snorting from her nose, "Fine." She held up her hands, backing away from him. While she appeared strong, the tears still poured from her eyes. She went on although her voice was raw, "I am not one to give up, but I'm exhausted. And if this is what you really want, so be it. But I don't think you even know what you want. Or who you are anymore, Jughead. But  _I_  do." She leaned in toward him, her tearful eyes seeming to stare straight into his soul.

"And maybe I  _am_  delusional. But at least I'm not a  _coward_ , Jughead. At least when I commit to something, I  _really_ commit. At least when I tell someone I love them, I  _really_ mean it-"

Jughead took in a sharp breath, his gaze intense, "don't  _ever_ say that, don't ever even think that. Do not  _ever_  doubt how much I love you, do you understand? That isn't what this is about."

She wanted to fight him on that one, but she found herself silently nodding. It was at this moment that Jughead let himself break. The gravity of it all started weighing down on him, the realization that he was saying goodbye to Betty Cooper - the only person he had ever loved - for good.

He reached forward and pulled her to his chest, forcing her into a hug she desperately didn't want, because it reeked of 'goodbye.'

"I love you so much it hurts," he whispered. "And I am so,  _so_ sorry."

She melted into him, her fingernails gripping into the jacket that had ruined her entire life. She could barely bring herself to let go when he tore himself away, leaving her wobbly and dizzy and devastated.

He looked over at Veronica and Archie, who were now nearing them. Veronica wrapped her arms around her best friend and Betty collapsed into her. Archie stared at Jughead through disappointed, narrowed eyes.

"You're making a mistake," he told him simply. Jughead's eyes flickered from face to face before he gave Archie a small nod that said, ' _I know.'_

Instead, he said, "make sure she gets home safe."

"You know, that's really not your concern anymore, Jughead," Veronica said, her glare burning holes into him.

He turned to head back towards his dad's truck. With every step he took away from her, Jughead knew Archie was right: he was making a mistake. But at least now she was safe - that was the only silver-lining to the single worst thing he'd ever done.

And as he drove into the night, he knew he was leaving the biggest piece of his heart behind.

* * *

Jughead didn't even have to  _guess_  who was banging on his trailer door.

He knew ever since he left the bowling alley that it would only be a matter of time before Archie came to confront him - he did, however, think it would at  _least_  take a day or two.

The relentless knocking came again, telling Jughead that Archie wouldn't be letting up anytime soon. He peeled himself off the couch he'd been stuck to since he'd gotten home, dragging his feet to the front door.

"I know you're in there, Jughead! Open up," Archie demanded, his voice muffled through the door. When he pulled it open, Archie practically shoved his way right through, nearly knocking Jug over in the process.

"Sure. Hey. Come on in," he deadpanned. He looked out the door to see if anyone else was with him, but it appeared Archie had come alone. "Only a  _one_ -person lynching mob, huh? I was sure there'd be more pitchforks-" Archie glared at his friend, clearly not in the mood for Jughead's sarcasm. "Sardonic humor, remember? If we don't laugh, we'll cry."

"How could you do that to Betty? After  _everything_  she's done for you?" Jughead rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh, that's pretty rich coming from you, Archie." Archie ignored the dig, his eyes resting on Jughead's face. It was clear he'd been crying, which made this all the more puzzling to him.

"What were you  _thinking?_  You  _love_  Betty. And she loves you! She's  _crushed_ -"

"She'll be fine," Jughead choked out curtly, sinking back into his couch.

"No… I don't know about that, Jug. Veronica had to go home with her, I've never seen her so devastated-"

" _Please_  spare me the gory details," Jughead groaned into his hands, closing his eyes. He wasn't kidding, this time. He just wanted to stop picturing her heartbroken expression over and over and over again. He felt sick to his stomach. He hated himself for breaking Betty's heart, especially as his sat shattered in his own chest. Archie would never understand.

 _No one_  would.

Archie wasn't about to let it go, though, "And to be honest, you don't look so good yourself." Jughead felt his mouth tense, the stinging of tears in his eyes. He hated that - that feeling a person got when someone tells them that they know they aren't fine and how it instantly makes the pain feel… well, real.

"Gee, Arch. Thanks," Jughead joked weakly, his voice tired.

"You know what I meant."

He  _wasn't_  good. He was torn between wanting to run to her and run from her. He never understood why he couldn't just process things like a normal person.

' _Can't anything just be normal with you, Jughead?'_ Once again her words echoed in his head, reminding him just how wrong for her he really was.

"It was for the best. Betty doesn't need to keep worrying about me. I did her a favor and don't try to tell me that everyone wasn't already thinking it-" Archie's hands flew up, as though they were trying to halt Jughead's self-loathing thoughts.

"Wait…  _why?_  I-I don't get it, I'm confused-"

"Well,  _there's_  a surprise," Jughead mumbled. Archie heaved a sigh, his arms falling to his sides helplessly.

"I thought, you know… I thought that you guys were happy," Archie said, lowering his voice as he sat on the coffee table across from Jughead. He leaned down, resting his elbows on his knees. He laughed lightly, giving his friend a small shrug, "you know... Veronica even said you guys are soulmates…"

"We probably are," Jughead admitted quietly, leaning his head on the back of the couch and staring up at the ceiling. He tried not to see her face in the patterned grooves of the plaster. "But that doesn't matter, anymore."

" _Why,_ though? Why doesn't it matter, Jughead?"Archie's incessant questioning was giving Jughead a headache. Of  _course_  he wanted to tell his best friend everything, but what good would that do? Archie would convince him to go back to Betty, but in the end, everything would still be the same: she was in danger every moment he was with her.

"Just…  _drop_  it, okay? It's done! Betty and I are  _over_ ," Jughead snapped.

"Fine!" Archie shot back, a silence falling upon them. Jughead took in a deep breath, thankful for the lull so he could think straight.

"Did you just come here to berate me for dumping Betty, or was there something else?" Archie just stared at Jughead in disbelief before shaking his head. He huffed out a humorless laugh, standing to leave. Jughead didn't even want to ask, but curiosity (and annoyance) got the best of him.

"What's so funny?" Jughead challenged. Archie turned back towards him, shoving his fists in his pockets.

"You know, your dad  _said_ you'd do this-"

"Oh, really? And what exactly did my dad say I'd do?" Jughead asked too loudly, shooting up from the couch. "What could my dad  _possibly_  know about me?! He doesn't know one damn thing about me, just like I don't know the first thing about  _him-_ "

Archie didn't back down, his muscles tightening, "He said you'd push us away. That you'd self-sabotage,  _just_  like you're doing now."

"Oh,  _please,_ " Jughead scoffed, turning from his friend to head towards the fridge. It was times like this he wished he drank - having seen his father depend on the bottle a little too much had made him know that it was a risky game for him. "Just give it a rest, already-"

"No, really. And that's  _exactly_ what you're doing. Sabotaging yourself because you don't know how to let  _good_  things happen to you. Blame it on your dad or your rough childhood all you want, but until you start to sort through the reasons why you do this to people, you'll  _never_  be happy."

"What, are you a psychologist now?" Jughead shot sarcastically, tipping a carton of milk back but retching when he noticed it was spoiled.

"Joke all you want, Jughead," Archie retorted. "You know I'm right. I just want to know why. Why are you doing this to her? You still haven't answered me-" Jughead slammed the fridge shut, still trying to get the taste of expired milk from his mouth and Archie's words out of his head.

"Because I'm a  _Jones!_  I'm  _defective!_ We don't get to have nice things, we don't get to have  _good_  things!" Archie seemed unmoved by Jughead's melodramatic rant.

"That's all in your head, you realize that? Betty loves you regardless of how broken you think you are." Jughead was exhausted by all of this now; it had been such a long, emotionally-draining few months and he just a quiet moment in his head.

"Listen…" he sighed, more mellow than before. "If I had it my way, Betty and I would be  _it_. Forever. End Story. But when it comes down to it... we live different lives. Maybe that didn't really matter before. But it does  _now-_ "

"What, now that you're a  _Serpent?_ " Archie cut him off, his words like acid. Jughead's hands rested on his hips when he was caught off guard; he didn't know what to say to that one. The jacket was literally hanging off the side of the couch right beside them, there was no pretending that it wasn't true - not that he ever had. "That  _is_  what's going on, right? You're not just thinking about it, anymore. You're in it, aren't you?"

Jughead immediately felt defensive, "so what? How does it affect you?"

"If affects me because it affects  _you!_ " Archie said, the tension between them rising again. "You are my brother, Jughead. I don't want to see something happen to you. And I don't want to see you hurt yourself like this. I will be the first to tell you that letting someone like Betty go is a  _huge_  mistake."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," Jughead said, his voice low. Archie stared back at his friend. He didn't deny it. "I could stand here and tell you that I've never loved anyone as much as Betty but the sad truth is that I have never loved anyone.  _Ever_. And I love Betty too much to ruin her life-"

" _Jug-_ " Archie tried to interject, but Jughead didn't let him.

"Look, Arch. I know it doesn't make sense to you, but I have my reasons. It destroys me that I can't be with her because let's be honest. I've  _never_  wanted anything more. Much longer than  _you_  know. But it doesn't change the fact that Betty and I ending was inevitable. I mean, isn't it better to get out now than later? It nearly killed us tonight. What would it be like a year from now? Two years from now?"

"So… that's it, then? You're just giving up? Who cares who gets hurt in the process?

Jughead felt ire in his veins, his eyes narrowing, "let's not start keeping tabs on who's hurt Betty worse, alright?" Jughead replied bitterly.

It didn't matter, though. They both  _knew_  who'd hurt her worse.

Sure, when Archie had told Betty she was too good for him, she was sad, but... The Betty he saw tonight was  _broken_. Utterly gutted. And for Archie, as her best friend, it killed him that there was nothing he could do to alleviate her pain, no matter how hard he tried.

"She didn't deserve that and you know it," Archie nearly whispered. At least when he saw Betty tomorrow, he could tell her that he'd tried. Jughead scoffed again, but only because this time he was trying in vain to keep from crying. He was loosing his will to keep himself together. The pain of the situation was catching up to him.

"What, are you, like, in  _love_  with her now or something?" he asked, and he tasted the regret of his words immediately. There was a glimmer of denial in Archie's eyes, but it slowly gave way to a slow, timid nod that Jughead wasn't expecting.

Or maybe he was. Maybe he had been in just as much denial as Archie had. It wasn't like he hadn't noticed Archie's confused gazes and longing glances at Betty from afar lately. He always,  _always_ wanted what he couldn't have.

" ...yeah. Maybe I do. More than  _you_  do, at least." Another wave of hot anger rolled over Jughead but he remained still at Archie's confession. He felt his stomach churn as he tried to push away images of Betty and Archie. It made him sick to imagine him kissing her as he had or holding her as he had, or even just  _knowing_  her as he had.

Jughead swallowed hard, even though his throat felt dry.

"Well, congrats," he choked. "Looks like the door is finally open for you guys now. Glad I could help."

The words were like a hard blow to Archie's chest.

It didn't  _matter_  how he felt about Betty or the regrets he had… he knew her heart belonged to Jughead. That's why he was here. If he couldn't be with her, if he couldn't  _be_  the one who made her happy, the least he could do was try to fix what  _had_  broken her heart. Yes, he was with Veronica now. But forever and always, a little part of him would always belong to Betty Cooper. Not that that mattered anymore. He just wanted his best friends, both of them, to be happy.

But he couldn't fix this.

He slowly turned to head towards the door but stopped to glance back at his friend. Jughead was leaning against the wall now, looking lost and less confident in his decision, which was the best that Archie could do... for now. Still, he figured he'd give it one last shot.

"You know… I turned Betty down because I didn't think I deserved her,  _not_ because I didn't love her. So get that straight," Jughead's eyes flickered sadly to Archie's face but he said nothing. Archie shrugged again, "So, when you and Betty got together… yeah. I was kind of jealous. I thought maybe I'd made a mistake and you know… maybe I did. But I was willing to live with it. Because I thought at least she was with someone who would never hurt her. Someone who  _deserved_  her. That you guys deserved each other. So, as sad as I felt for me… I was happy for you. But I was wrong. You don't deserve her either."

For a split second, it looked like Archie had maybe gotten through to his friend. His scowl faltered, softening around the edges. His eyes were teary and Archie almost thought he could see a real tear roll down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away. It was the look of a man who was already regretting his decision…

But as soon as it was there, it passed. His eyes darkened, his face hardening, "I guess it's a good thing I dumped her then, isn't it?"

Archie turned the handle, feeling defeated. He tried. That's all that mattered. He shot Jughead one last hopeful glance, "I really don't want to see you regret this, Jug."

Jughead stared back, and after a moment he just nodded; it was too late for that. He already did. But he couldn't go back now.

"She would have figured out that she didn't want me anyway, Archie. I just beat her to the punch."

Archie pulled his coat around himself, and shook his head before seeing himself out and letting the door slam behind him. This just wasn't something he could mend, no matter how hard he had tried.

No, Jughead would just have to figure this one out on his own, and it seemed like that's the way he preferred it.

* * *

_To Be Continued..._


	4. never very far away

_ The red string of fate. _

_ An old Chinese myth that tells of how the Gods would tie a red string from two souls that were destined to meet one another - often considered soulmates. It is said that the two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break. _

_ Maybe that is why some people never leave each other's lives - not really. When we meet our red-string soulmate, our lives are forever interwoven, no matter how many ways we try to cut the tether. The choice was never ours to begin with. It was decided by something much greater than ourselves. _

_ If we are meant to be with someone, it will happen no matter what. When it comes to our own fates, we are powerless. _

* * *

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," FP teased from behind the glass window. In the past, Jughead had been allowed to see his dad in an actual meeting room - today, for no real known reason, he had to opt for the visiting booth. Ever since FP had been arraigned and denied bail, jailhouse visits were a little more formal than before.

A trademark Jones smirk rested far too easily on FP's lips, "It's good to see you."

Jug took in the sight of his father, dressed in orange, his hands cuffed as he clumsily held the phone to his ear. It made his heart heavy to see him like this, all broken down and tired. FP sized up Jughead, as well, giving him approving nod, "and looking  _ slick _ , I might add. I'm surprised they let you in here wearing that thing…"

Jughead gave a half-shrug and emotionlessly replied, "it's just a jacket." Strangely, he couldn't even remember putting it on that morning. It was as if it had just become a part of him at this point. FP gave his son a knowing glare.

"It's a lot more than that and I think you know it." FP relaxed into his metal chair, "but I have to admit... it makes me weirdly proud to see you wearing it. Like you'll carry on the Jones name, after all." The implications of those words made Jughead's stomach swirl. "Who knows, though. Maybe that just makes me a bad dad..."

Words failed to come out when Jug opened his mouth to object. FP certainly hadn't been the  _ best _ father over Jughead's lifetime. Not even a good one, very often. But he certainly had his  _ moments _ \- like taking the fall for Jason's murder to save his life. Thankfully, Jughead didn't have to respond, as FP continued, "cool shiner you got here, by the way. I sure hope you  _ gave  _ as good as you  _ got... _ "

Jughead's fingers instinctively rose to his injured eye. It was purple and bruised, still swollen from the day before.

"You should see the other guy," Jughead joked lightly, waving him off with his hand. FP let out a quick burst of laughter as he pounded his fist on the tabletop.

" _ Atta _ boy. You're scrappy. Just like your ol' man." Jughead returned a partial, tired chuckle even though he didn't feel like laughing. He never knew how to feel about being compared to his dad, and he'd done it twice in the last thirty seconds.

"You admiring how dashing I look in my jumpsuit?" FP asked when Jughead hadn't responded for a moment. That same Jones smirk broke across Jug's face, this time.

"Orange is certainly  _ your _ color," Jughead deadpanned. His face sobered as he asked him, "you.. doin' okay in there?" FP's smile faded, he shrugged.

"Been better, but not bad. I've been reading a lot. The library here is shit though. Maybe you could write me up something cool to read. You know, to pass the time. You're good at that stuff." Jughead wasn't sure why his heart swelled every time his father praised his writing - or praised him at all. He supposed he'd always want his love and approval. Typical daddy-issues.

" _ Ten minutes, inmates! _ " A guard yelled from somewhere unseen. Jughead had only caught the tail end of visiting hours, and now their time was limited. FP leaned in, down to business. He knew this wasn't a casual visit.

"Guess we gotta cut to the chase, kid. Why are you here? And on a school day, nonetheless..." Jughead went to answer but instead stared back sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't think I'd notice, huh? We  _ do _ still have calendars in here."

Jug squirmed in his chair slightly, unsure how to broach the subject of the Roaches in a way that wouldn't get his dad all fired up - he knew all too well how hot-tempered he could be. Unfortunately, it was a trait he, too, had inherited. But regardless, it still needed to be addressed. His dad had clearly gotten himself into some kind of ruse that went awry, and Jughead needed to know just what exactly he was dealing with.

"Uh… Listen, dad. It's about the Serpents," Jughead said lowly, hesitantly. FP licked his lips, his eyes darting from side to side and then over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening - they weren't. Still, Jughead knew he had to be careful about whatever he said next.

"What  _ about _ the Serpents?"

"Seems like you made a few enemies…?" Jughead could see FP's thoughts register on his face. He lowered his head and dropped it into his hands. He was clearly trying to ward off the anger that was rising within him. He'd pieced it together almost instantly. He sat up and sucked in a breath.

"Did one of those Roaches do that to you?" FP whispered harshly, gesturing towards Jughead's eye. He clenched his teeth, shook his head, "I swear to  _ God _ if they laid a  _ hand _ on you-"

"Oh, please. You'll do  _ what _ , exactly?" asked Jughead, his eyes narrowed and his tone flat. "From behind that glass? You'll do  _ nothing _ ." FP's jaw remained tensed, his breathing shallow as he continued to fight off the fury that had overtaken him. Jughead leaned in now, "I need to know what you did and how to fix it. O-or how I can pay them back-"

"Not your debt to  _ pay _ -" he told him sternly.

"Well,  _ they _ sure think it is."

"Then you tell them to come see me-"

" _ Dad! _ " Jughead nearly yelled, but calmed himself before he caused too much alarm with the officers. "You can't do  _ anything  _ from in here. They are after  _ me _ if you can't pay them back and from what I can see, you're not getting out of here anytime soon. The only way you can help me is to be honest with me."

FP's reluctance was obvious. He roughly rubbed his hands down his face and he let out a frustrated groan, "I should have known they'd come after you, those lowlifes. What's Grinder doing about this, huh? The rest of the Serpents, they have your back?" Jughead gave his dad a weak nod.

"Well… yeah. Of course. But that's not enough." FP looked relieved, but the worry still shined in his eyes. Jughead could tell he was trying to think of a solution, and fast. He was always good at worming his way out of things, he just needed to stew on it.

"Just... stay out of the South Side for a little while. So I can make some calls, tie up some loose ends." Jughead pulled the phone away from his ear, frustratedly raking his fingers through his hair. He could still hear his dad's voice echoing through the headpiece. "You got somewhere you can hide out, just for a few days? Maybe with Andrews o-or your girlfriend.  _ Betty? _ " Jughead scoffed and rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might roll right out of his head.

"I  _ hardly _ think Fred needs to be harboring a runaway teenager while he's trying to recover from nearly  _ dying,  _ dad," Jughead spat sarcastically. Then, his shoulders slumped and his heart plummeted at the thought of Betty. He had been actively pushing out every thought of her since he broke up with her days ago - it was like it was all a bad dream. Her sad, soft eyes were haunting him.

"A-and  _ Betty… _ " Jughead's voice hitched, his words trailing off. FP waited patiently for a response, but it only took a few seconds of seeing the agony on his son's face before he pieced that together, too. He shook his head disapprovingly.

"You broke her heart, didn't you?" Jughead's eyes shot to his father's face, his eyebrows pulling together - he wasn't sure how he knew that.

"How do you know she didn't break mine?"

"How do I know? Because I  _ saw _ that girl. Saw the way she looked at you. She doesn't quit - she loves you. She's got the same fire as her mother. Only she's got a lot more integrity." Jughead wanted to ask him what  _ that _ meant, especially after his strange conversation with Alice not too long ago. They spoke of one another as though they meant a great deal to each other at one point, but something happened to end it.

"And... I know you broke her heart because you're a Jones. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. We go into survival mode, cut people out who get close to us before they can disappoint us." Jughead hated that at times his father seemed like a complete stranger, and other times he seemed to know Jughead better than he knew himself. "We don't let good things happen to us-"

"Now you sound like Archie," Jughead mumbled, his forehead in his hand as he rubbed away the same looming, ever-returning headache that had been plaguing him for days.

"You're crazy to throw something good like that away. You know that, right?"

"So I've been told." Jughead sighed, sitting up straighter in his chair. He was beginning to realize he'd yet to get a straight answer from FP about the Roaches. "You're deflecting-"

" _ You're _ deflecting," FP shot back, never missing a beat. "Why'd you break up with Betty?"

Jughead groaned loudly, his face falling in his hands. He was so damn tired of explaining this to people. He began to count the reasons, "because we are different. It would never have worked between us. I don't have what it takes to make her happy right now, and I don't deserve her."

"Why would you even think that about yourself? You're the  _ best _ person I know, and I'm not just saying that because I have a biological obligation, Jughead."

Jughead stared his father dead in the eyes as he bravely told him, "Maybe I think that way about myself because everyone who is supposed to love me never seems to stick around." He wasn't trying to hurt him, but  _ damn it all _ if it wasn't the truth. He gave a halfhearted shrug, "I'm a mess. She deserves better than that. She deserves better than  _ me _ ."

FP leaned back slowly and Jughead almost regretted his words when he saw a hint of rare emotion in his father's eyes. He spoke low into the phone, his voice softer than Jughead had maybe ever heard it.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe she  _ does _ deserve something better." Jughead felt a strange solace in the fact that  _ someone _ finally seemed to get it. Then FP continued, "But she doesn't  _ want  _ something better. She wants  _ you _ . And I don't think you understand just how important that is." Jughead tried so hard not to get choked up at his dad's words, but felt his chin quiver nonetheless. He missed her so much. "And… I think maybe  _ you _ deserve someone like  _ her _ , for once in your life, Jug."

Jughead felt the lump forming in his throat again, his eyes misting. He should have known better than to allow the conversation veer towards Betty, but it was seemingly impossible to avoid. Especially when the next thing he had to tell FP was so important.

"I need to know what to do to get the Roaches off my back," Jughead said, his voice shaking. FP remained silent, much to Jughead's irritation. He leaned forward again, hissing at him, "they threatened  _ Betty _ , dad. That's the other reason I had to break it off with her. You have to help me because I would die if something happened to her."

"What do you  _ mean _ they threatened Betty?"

"Please. Just tell me what to do, I don't know… what to do." Jughead's plea had become an outright beg by the end of his sentence. He was so tired, so emotionally bankrupt after everything.

" _ Time's up!" _ the same guard yelled, and everyone around Jughead and FP began to say their goodbyes. A large, uniformed officer showed up behind FP, resting his hand on his shoulder to tell him to wrap it up.

"Listen… try to lay low for a little while longer," FP told Jughead quickly. "I'll… I'll make some calls. Come back in a few days and I'll tell you everything. I promise."

"Dad-" Jughead tried to interject.

"Let's go, Jones." the guard said. FP hung up his phone, and Jughead watched as his father was led away, back to his cell.

* * *

"I still can't believe it. I am  _ so _ sorry, Betty." Kevin offered his condolences from across the lunch table with an astonished headshake. He'd been out of town for a few days and had just returned to hear the mind-blowing news about Betty and Jughead. He cocked an eyebrow, playfully leaning on his elbows, "You know… Joaquin still knows some guys on the inside. I could give him a call. Do we need to have someone rough him up a bit? Knock that stupid beanie right off his head?"

Betty just gave him a weak smile - at least she  _ thought _ she did. She wasn't sure any emotions had been manifesting on her face, lately. She said nothing as she absently pushed her food around on her tray. She had been reduced to a walking, talking cliche - she couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. She felt like she had been existing in a fog since that night at the bowling alley, when down was up and the world no longer made sense.

She wasn't  _ completely  _ naïve. She knew that heartaches like this were just a part of growing up. She  _ knew _ it was rare, her parents aside, to fall in love with your high school sweetheart and stay together forever. It always seems so promising, etched with ink on the back of a spiral notebook.

_ Betty + Jughead = true love 4 ever _

But those logical facts in the back of her mind, that high school sweethearts were overrated and scarcely worked out, didn't make it hurt any less. Because  _ why not? _ Why could two miserable people like her parents make it work, and yet she and Jughead couldn't?

"It was  _ awful _ . Like watching a car wreck. It was like he was possessed, there was just no getting through to him-" she heard Veronica telling Kevin, but she was only half listening at this point. She didn't need to be reminded - she was still living it.

Her eyes kept fixating on the seat beside, the one that remained empty, as though her friends were afraid to fill it. The emptiness was harder to stomach. Betty ran her fingertips faintly against the scars on her palms; it had taken a steady effort on her part not to squeeze. She'd moved past the point of hurting - now, she was numb. That was even worse. It was like he'd never even existed in her life, just like he wanted.

And yet, somewhere deep inside of herself she held onto this bleak hope that he would change his mind about her.

About  _ them. _

But the sad truth was, the only person Jughead really needed to change his mind about was  _ himself. _ It didn't matter how much she loved him or told him he was  _ real _ and  _ important _ … unless he believed it himself, she never stood a chance.

"-he was pretty messed up when I saw him. I've never seen him like that-" Betty tuned back in just in time to catch part of Archie's sentence, but he shut up almost immediately. Betty tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing at him.

"Wait. You… you  _ talked _ to him?" she uttered, her first words she'd said in a small eternity. Archie looked mildly panicked, and Veronica shot him a glare for even mentioning it. Betty tucked some loose, flaxen hair behind her ear and cleared her throat before asking as evenly as possible, "What… did he say?"

"Not much," Archie said after a moment's hesitation. He gave Betty a sympathetic, albeit exhausted, roll of his shoulders, "Betty… I  _ tried _ , believe me. I told him he would regret it for the rest of his life but… he's in a pretty dark place right now. I thought, you know, I could get through to him. That this was all going to blow over but-"

"He's... not coming back…  _ is _ he?" Betty asked him slowly, almost in a daze. It was as if her heart was just now catching up to what she already knew and it felt like it fell to pieces in her chest all over again. How would she ever come to terms with this? How would she be able to let go of someone she'd shared her entire life with? Archie just stared back at her, a pained look in his eyes. He hated Jughead for making him have to be the one break Betty's heart all over again.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Betty," Archie said, barely above a whisper. Her eyes glossed over, but no tears would come. Her face was hot, her ears burning. Everyone was looking at her with sad, pitiful eyes.

She felt pathetic, then she felt angry. The  _ last _ thing she wanted was their pity.

"We're here for you. No matter what." Kevin promised. Her eyes lazily found and rested on his face. His voice sounded far away as he asked her, "Is there anything we can do?"

"Well  _ I _ , for one, suggest some good old-fashioned retail therapy," Veronica chirped, ever the optimist. "Spring is  _ right  _ around the corner and my wardrobe needs a facelift. What say you, B? Wanna hit the boutiques after school? Get your mind off of it?"

Instead of acknowledging her, Betty found herself staring intensely at Archie and Veronica's clasped hands on the table - their fingers intimately interlaced. They were so happy. So in love.

And right now, she  _ hated _ them. She hated  _ everyone _ . Anyone who was smiling or breathing or living just infuriated her… especially when she looked beside herself again at that damn empty chair.

The one he used to sit in.

Betty scooped up her tray, "I'm not hungry," she announced to no one in particular.

"Betty, wait-" Veronica started, but Betty just turned with her tray, tossing the contents in the trash can on her way out of the cafeteria. She clawed her fingers through her hair and squeezed as she frantically tried to silence the voices in her head, the ones that taunted her and kept reminding her over and over again: he wasn't coming back.

Because of this realization, Betty desperately wanted to feel close to him. The only way she could do that would be to go somewhere they had spent so much time together. Once she made it to the corridor, she looked down at her cellphone. It was agonizing that he hadn't reached out, and  _ worse _ , that it was taking every bit of internal strength just to do what he asked:  _ let him go. _

She hastily rounded the corner on her trek towards the Blue & Gold headquarters, still looking at her phone when she slammed directly into Chuck Clayton. She fell back, almost onto the ground, but caught her balance on a locker before she crashed. Her phone wasn't so lucky. It fell to the ground with a loud crack.

"Whoa there, Turbo. Slow your roll," he said, but his friendly smile faded when he figured out just who he'd nearly run down. "Oh.  _ You. _ "

" _ Great, _ " Betty hissed. This was literally the  _ last  _ person she needed to be around right now. The last time she'd seen Chuck, he was being dragged out of Archie's house by FP. She assumed he was no less salty  _ now _ than he was that night.

Betty averted her eyes to the ground, diving down to fetch her cellphone, but Chuck beat her to it. He snatched it up and stepped in her way. She felt the blood flow to her cheeks and her heartbeat speed up.

"Give me that back, Chuck," she seethed. He studied her screen, a photo of her and Jughead staring back at him. It was homecoming. Betty was kissing Jughead on the cheek and he was just smiling, somewhat shyly. It was her favorite picture of them. Kevin had snapped it at the dance before they got word that FP was arrested. When things felt just a little simpler.

"Aw. Well, aren't you two just the  _ sweetest _ ," he mocked. She quickly grabbed the phone from his hand and tried to move past him without any more discussion. Again, he blocked her way. "Where are  _ you _ off to in such a hurry? Got a hot date with your little gang-banger boyfriend?" She clenched her jaw so tightly she thought her teeth might shatter. Her fists balled, instantly reopening her old wounds she'd  _ promised _ herself she'd heal from.

" _ Chuck _ ," she warned.

He raised his eyebrows, gasping in feigned surprise, "oh wait. That's  _ right _ . Jughead dumped you. He's not around to protect little miss Betty anymore, huh?"

"Move. Out. Of. My. Way." Betty's vision blurred, her mind involuntarily imagining a million different ways to put an end to Chuck Clayton. For  _ good _ .

"Rumor has it, he split not too long after that message on your locker," Chuck mused, and Betty's hands unclenched. She could feel the air stinging her fresh cuts. Her breath was stolen from her when she could tell, just by the way Chuck said this, that he had something to do with the cryptic message on her locker… the one that had set Jughead into a tailspin. "You know, it's surprisingly  _ not  _ that hard to get pig's blood?"

"Get away from me!" Betty snapped, shoving him back at the chest with all the force she could muster. He just wobbled a bit and laughed at her attempt to intimidate him.

"Uh-oh. You're not goin' all psycho on me again, are you? Because I forgot my swim trunks." He leaned down closer to her face and she fought the urge to smack the smug smile off his lips. "You know… Maybe I'm mistaken. Maybe it  _ wasn't  _ the message on your locker that made him leave you.  _ Maybe...  _ your little boyfriend just figured out how crazy you  _ actually _ are. So he got out of there while he still could." Betty could literally feel the light drain from her eyes, her whole body damn near shaking at this point.

"You have no idea how crazy I can be, Chuck. But if you're not careful, you might just find out." Chuck leaned down even closer, his eyes shimmering with mischief, as though he were letting her in on a secret. She could tell he was enjoying this.

_ Sadistic prick. _

"Actually,  _ yes _ , Betty. I have a  _ pretty _ vivid recollection of  _ just  _ how insane you are." Betty pushed past him, stomping down the hall quickly to get as far away from Chuck as possible - one of them was going to get hurt, and with the adrenaline coursing through her, she wasn't so sure it wouldn't be him.

"How does it feel to have something you love snatched away from you, Betty Cooper?" Chuck yelled out after her - likening his stunted football career to her losing her first love. As if there was any comparison.

Instead of heading toward the Blue & Gold room, she found herself hurrying right out the school's front doors with no intention of going back today. Maybe  _ never _ .

Before she knew it, she was running, nearly slipping in the remaining, melting snow a time or two, but sprinting as fast as her legs would take her. Her lungs burned, her body was weary, but still, she did not stop. She wanted to feel something -  _ anything _ \- other than the emptiness that had holed up in her chest for the last week. The rage was a nice change.

Betty made it to the park by her house before she collapsed to her knees into the wet snow. Her fingers dug into the freezing ground, but it was soothing to her aching palms as she tried to catch her breath. The slush was drenching her jeans and she feared she might never get up, just freeze into a tortured statue in the cold.

Maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing. Maybe she would thaw in the spring and all of this would be over.

She let herself sink further into the ground, falling over onto her back and staring up at the white, cloud-covered sky. Her chest heaved roughly, her throat was raw, her nose and cheeks were numb. She spread out like she was about to do a snow angel in the mud and snow, but instead looked at her phone in her hand once more. There was a crack right down the middle of the screen from dropping it earlier. It seemed cut right between the photo of her and Jughead, like some sign from the heavens that they were destined to part.

Then she remembered a line from Romeo and Juliet:

" _ Is it even so? Then I defy you, stars! _

Thou knowest my lodging. Get me ink and paper,

And hire post horses. I will hence tonight."

She scrolled through her contacts before her thumbs hovered over his name. This was a true moment of weakness and she knew it... but she could not resist the urge anymore.

Before she could convince herself not to, she hit ' _ Call _ .'

It had barely rung when his voicemail picked up. His phone was clearly (and probably purposely) turned off.

"It's Jughead.  _ You _ know what to do," was the only lead up before the beep. Betty considered hanging up; even just hearing his voice had somehow seemed to calm her all over. If she hung up now, he wouldn't even know she'd gone against his wishes and called him in the first place. But she couldn't bring herself to end the call.

"Um…  _ hey, _ " her voice broke. She cleared her throat, trying to sound stronger than she actually felt at that moment. "It's me. I… I know you said to let you go and I  _ will  _ but…" She swallowed down a sob, desperate to keep it from her voice. After she was confident she could continue without breaking down, she continued, "Nothing makes sense anymore. I miss you. And I  _ hate _ this. And I  _ hate _ you…"

She paused, taking in a sharp breath when her own words surprised her. Of course, she didn't hate him. Even after everything, she would gladly go through it all again just to know she'd gotten the chance to love and be loved by Jughead Jones.

"You know that's a lie. But I  _ wish  _ I hated you. Because hating you would feel better than loving you this much and not being with you-" She swallowed again roughly at lump in her throat, but she couldn't keep the tears from coming this time. They streamed down her cheeks easily, and it was oddly freeing.

"This hurts, Jug," she cried. " _ God _ , this hurts more than anything. I feel like I'm unraveling and I don't have anyone to tell that to… no one who understands like  _ you _ would." Betty took in another shaky breath, wiping her wet cheeks and drying her hands on her jeans. She couldn't keep losing it like this. It surely wouldn't do her any good - it wouldn't bring him back.

"It's so weird knowing you're not going to be around. Everyone is just going on with their lives, but I feel like I'm standing still. I don't remember what it was like before you. Everyone sucks.  _ Everything _ sucks. Maybe… maybe you were right to be so jaded, Jug."

Betty rolled over onto her stomach, kicking her feet up as though she were talking to a friend on the phone on her bed, like she was just having a casual conversation. For a moment, it even felt like he was going to talk back, but she knew better.

"Oh, and by the way? Chuck Clayton was the ringleader behind my locker vandalism, I hope you know. He not-so-subtly admitted that to me when he cornered and harassed me in the hallway today. Not that you  _ care _ anymore-"

Once again, her own words hurt her. She could only  _ assume  _ that he didn't care. She had no idea if he even thought of her. Maybe it all meant nothing. Maybe she was just as naïve and delusional with Jughead as she had been with Archie.

How could she have been so wrong about something that had felt so  _ right? _

She held her hand up and inspected the crescent moon shaped divots on her palm. Her finger traced along the scars.

"Maybe I really  _ am  _ crazy, Juggie…" she uttered through a lost, mournful exhale.

She was a mess. And he deserved better than that.

He deserved better than  _ her. _

"I don't blame you for leaving me… and I promise I'll leave you alone, now."

* * *

It was dark by the time Betty made it home. She was pale and shivering, her lips blue from sitting out in the cold for so long. The warmth of the Cooper house hit her like a tidal wave when she walked in, instantly thawing her numb limbs.

She absently let her backpack fall to the ground. She did not even bother to pick it up as she stepped over it on her way to her room, where she planned to hide away forever.

" _ There _ you are," Alice said, coming out of the kitchen. She looked Betty up and down, her hands on her hips as she laid into her, "I have been  _ calling _ and  _ calling _ you, where have you been? You missed dinner  _ and _ your school called, you've skipped class  _ twice _ this week-?"

Betty rubbed her cold hands against her cheeks, closing her eyes and letting out a grunt, "mom. Can we  _ please _ not do this now-"

"Elizabeth Cooper, you are  _ not  _ the one calling the shots here," Alice snapped back. But when she saw the pain in Betty's eyes, her frown lessened. She sighed, running the dishtowel in her hand through her fingers. "I know you're heartbroken, and I am  _ so _ sorry about Jughead-"

" _ Please _ , mom," Betty wearily tried to object. She didn't want to  _ talk _ about Jughead anymore, she didn't want to  _ think _ about Jughead anymore. She just wanted a break from the pain and the hurt for one minute.

"I'm sure you don't want to hear this and you might not believe me but… it  _ will  _ pass, sweetie. Focus on school, you will bounce back. Heartaches like this rarely last forever." Alice made it seem so simple, a step-by-step guide to getting over it.

"And how would you know, mom? The only love you've ever had is dad. You've never  _ had _ a heartbreak like this before…" Alice just stared back at Betty, a glazed look in her eyes. She gave her a small, tight-lipped smile.

"No. No, I suppose not."

Betty instantly felt guilty and she didn't even know why. But something in the way Alice said this made Betty feel like once again her mother was hiding something from her.

" _ Have _ you-?" Before Betty could ask anything more, the doorbell rang.

"Could you get that? I'm cleaning up," Alice said, turning to retreat back to the kitchen. "Oh, and I left a plate in the microwave in case you're hungry." Betty felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. They would call a truce for tonight, and that was all she could ask for. As terrifying and dominating as her mother could be at times, deep down Betty knew her mother always had her best interest at heart.

Betty heaved a sigh,  _ definitely _ not in the mood for socializing. When she pulled open the door she was surprised to find Veronica standing on the other side, her arms weighed down heavily by  _ at least _ a dozen shopping bags.

"Good evening, Miss Betty Cooper," she began with a small curtsey. She raised her arms up triumphantly. "I come bearing gifts."

Betty wanted to tell her that now wasn't really a good time, but Veronica saw herself in. She dropped her bags, turning to Betty as she began rubbing her hands together to warm them from the cold. Her nose was bright pink and Betty suspected she'd been out in the cold all afternoon shopping at the boutiques downtown. She straightened her deep purple beret on her head and began to peel off her heavy coat, one button at a time.

" _ Oooh _ , who went shopping?" Polly asked excitedly as she waddled into the foyer, cradling her ever-growing belly. She peeked into one particularly appealing bag.

" _ Moi _ , of course," Veronica replied, cheerfully. "I thought Betty's wardrobe could use a couple…" she reached up and pulled a twig from Betty's ponytail, "um…  _ upgrades. _ "

"Mom isn't gonna  _ liiike _ that," Polly sang, a big smile stretching across her pearly pink lips. Her eyes glistened, "but  _ I _ am a real sucker for a good makeover montage."

"Precisely," Veronica nodded.

"Um, thanks but  _ no _ thanks," Betty declined. Veronica hummed quietly, looking Betty up and down and tapping her chin contemplatively. Betty's jeans were wet and stained with mud, so she wasn't exactly picture perfect at this moment. But there certainly wasn't anything wrong with the way she dressed on a regular basis.

"Oh, come on, Betty. A little change would be  _ fun _ ," Polly shrugged, continuing to rummage through Veronica's findings. She reached into the bag and pulled out a very small, very black piece of material. She held it up in front of herself, her eyes wide with wonder. Betty scrunched up her face - she wasn't even sure what it was, but it was definitely too small to be worn in the general public. She reached over, snagging it out of Polly's hand.

"Who was at the door, Bett-" Alice's sentence halted when she saw the three girls standing together among the mess of bags - Betty quickly hid the tiny garment behind her back. Alice folded her arms, her face turning to stone again when she noticed the Lodge daughter in her home. "Oh. Hello, Veronica. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to cheer up Betty. I thought she could use some girl time. You know. With her  _ best friend. _ " Alice's eyes narrowed when she caught the condescending tone in Veronica's voice.

Alice stared between the three innocent faces before she decided to let it go for the night, "Very well. Be good, girls."

"We always are, Mrs. Cooper," Veronica chimed. Betty inwardly groaned, her one chance of getting out of this was shot as her mother went back to the kitchen again. She looked between Veronica's sinister smile and Polly's enthusiasm and knew she was outnumbered - 2 to 1.

"C'mon," she sighed, defeatedly trudging up the stairs to her room, the two girls excitedly trailing after her.

"You aren't going to regret this," Veronica promised. Betty snorted - the first laugh in what felt like forever.

"I already am." Betty closed the door behind her as Polly and Veronica started unearthing all of Veronica's shopping bags. Betty fell back on her bed as Veronica dumped the contents of her makeup bag onto the bed beside her. "I  _ really _ don't want to do this, V…"

"Betty, you  _ need  _ this. Don't you want to feel better?"

"A makeover is  _ not  _ the thing that's going to make me feel better," Betty curled into a ball, half of her face hidden in her pillow.

Veronica sat in front of her, reaching around her to rub her back. She cocked her head to better see Betty's face, and, not to her surprise, her cheeks were puffy and her eyes were red. She looked like she hadn't slept well since it happened, though that was probably all she wanted to do.

"Listen…" Veronica started, "I wish I could say I know what you're going through; that I've been through my fair share of breakups and that within a few more days your life will start to feel normal again." She sighed dejectedly when her words only made a tear drip from Betty's eye and onto her pillow, "But I've never been in love before. So I'm not even going to pretend that any of my past flings is anywhere close to what you and Jughead have…"

Betty sniffed loudly, " _ Had.  _ What we  _ had,  _ Veronica."

Veronica felt her lips quiver at the melancholy passion in Betty's voice. It broke her heart to see her best friend in so much pain - and not being able to do a single thing about it was tearing her up. She knew bringing over such superficial things as eye shadow and skirts was not going to make it better. But besides setting Jughead right in front of her, there was nothing else that she could do to make Betty happy.

Polly chimed in, sadly adding, "Betty… I know how you feel. When I found out that Jason-" she gave herself a moment when she became too emotional to continue. "I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have these babies. There is nothing like losing your first love. It's okay to not be okay."

Betty smiled sweetly at her sister; she suddenly felt horrible for crying over Jughead while Polly was still mourning Jason. Betty might never have Jughead in her life, but at least he was alive. Jason was gone from this world and Polly would be raising their children without a father.

Veronica moved her hand from Betty's back to her head. One of the things that her mom always did when she was feeling down was play with her hair. Veronica didn't really take notice until now, but Betty's hair was still pulled back in a perfect ponytail despite her life being in shambles.

"Girl, seriously...what is up with your ponytail?" Veronica tugged on it, "Doesn't it give you a constant headache? Even if I wear clips in my hair too long, I get headaches."

Betty rubbed her eyes roughly to try to dry her tears. She was so sick of crying.

"It just became normal from when I was little. My mom would always put it up just in case anyone wanted to snap a picture of us. ' _ Not a hair out of place,'  _ she would say. ' _ Always picture perfect.' _ "

"It's true," Polly chuckled, already testing out some of Veronica's expensive make up in Betty's vanity mirror. "She  _ did _ say that. Betty got ponytails, I got headbands. They would dig into my skull under my ears - but I got used to the headaches, eventually."

Veronica rolled her eyes, "Well, you're not nine anymore, Betty. And besides, you've worn your hair down before. It's not like you're a comic book character that needs to look the same in each volume."

Betty shrugged her shoulders, "Just became habit to put it up most days."

"Well, time to break old habits! How about a cut and dye?"

"Ha!" Polly snorted this time. "Good luck with that," she added dryly.

Betty glanced at Veronica, "My mom would kill  _ all three _ of us if I dyed my hair."

"No, she'd spare me 'til I birthed her grandchildren.  _ Then _ she'd kill me, too," Polly corrected.

"Uh, no!...you deserve a  _ get out of jail free  _ card when dealing with a broken heart. Even stone cold Mama Coop must understand that." Veronica swiped out a pair of scissors, seemingly from nowhere and Betty nearly squealed.

"What! You're not coming anywhere near me with those things-"

" _ Relax. _ I took cosmetology classes back in New York," Veronica insisted. Polly's eyes widened with fascination at the cool brunette once more.

"They offered that at your school?"

Veronica nodded, "Mmm- _ hmm _ . Chaz Dean even visited once. Of course, that was before all his  _ Wen _ products started making everyone's hair fall out-"

"How  _ glamorous… _ " Polly mused, stars in her eyes.

Betty wasn't so convinced, "Oh, well now I feel  _ much _ better about this," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Veronica took her hand, leading her over and sitting her down at her vanity. "I really don't know how I feel about cutting my hair," Betty said as Veronica slipped the elastic hair tie from Betty's unnervingly tight ponytail. Her hair fell over her shoulder, a bit of a kinked mess while Veronica began to rake her fingers through the golden locks. She leaned down, looking at Betty right in the eyes through the mirror. Her fingertips softly grazed the ends of Betty's hair.

"Just a few light layers, nothing off the length… and then a lil' something to really give you some edge-"

"Oh! Blue highlights! No, wait...  _ purple _ highlights!" Polly shouted. She giggled, clapping her hands together. "I'm sorry, I'm just so nervous and  _ excited- _ "

" _ Highlights? _ " Betty moaned, her face falling. She looked terrified.

"Bangs," Veronica said simply, as though the choice were made. "A little bit of fringe in your eyes, give you a little bit of mystery. You're going to look  _ amazing. _ "

Betty wanted to say no, but then she caught her reflection. She was almost startled when she could see the pain in her own eyes that stared dully back at her- eyes that had lost their sparkle. Dark circles pooled beneath them, swollen from crying. She looked pale. Exhausted. Heartbroken. She'd never seen herself like this before and it scared the hell out of her. What would Jughead think if he knew she'd let all the white noise win? That she'd sunk so deep down into her despair that she'd stopped living, only existing?

"Okay," she said bravely.

"Yeah?!" Veronica grinned widely. Betty nodded.

"Sure. Why not? I could use the change." Veronica gleefully moved in toward Betty's hair, but Betty jerked away, "no blue highlights," she demanded.

"Awww…" Polly whined. Veronica began to wet Betty's hair with a spray bottle.

"You got it."

* * *

" _...Maybe I really am crazy, Juggie. I don't blame you for leaving me… and I promise I'll leave you alone now. _ "

Jughead knew better than to listen to it.

He told himself over and over again  _ not _ to do it - that nothing good would come of it.

Yet there he was, crouched away from the rowdy, loudness of the bar with one hand clapped over his ear to drown out the noise, the other pressing the phone hard against his cheek.

_ Nothing _ prepared him for the way hearing the sweet, forlorn sound of her voice would make him feel.

Homesick. Longing. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to punish himself for being such a damaged person. He hated himself for making her cry. He wanted to go to her - to fix her. To pick up all those broken pieces of both of their hearts and piece back together again.

He knew he couldn't.

Jughead saved the voicemail because he didn't have any other way to hear her voice if he was feeling particularly weak - which might be often. He brushed away the tears that had collected in his eyes as he heard Sweet Pea calling for him across the way, over and over again. Relentlessly. There was never a silent moment in his life anymore. He just wanted peace.

" _ Juggg _ ! Jughead!"

"In a  _ minute _ ," he snapped over his shoulder. He fidgeted with his phone, trying to decide if he wanted to try to listen to it one more time but watched as Sweet Pea grabbed his beer from the counter, walking over to Jughead instead. Jughead wiped his nose with his hand quickly, doing everything in his power to get it together before the rest of the guys noticed. He felt so pathetic.

Sweet Pea came up behind him and drunkenly hooked his arm over Jughead's shoulders.

"Wud are you doin' over here sulking?" He shoved his mug of beer into Jughead's chest and a little spilled down his shirt. Jughead was annoyed - being around drunk people always seemed to make him uneasy. He slinked out from Sweet Pea's arm to find some napkins to dry his shirt. Sweet Pea didn't let up, following Jughead to a nearby table.

"Were you talking to your  _ giiiirlfriend _ ?" Sweet Pea slurred, obnoxiously. Jughead pursed his lips and ignored him, even more annoyed when the napkin holder was empty and the beer was starting to seep through to his skin. Great. Smelling like beer was just icing on the cake.

Sweet Pea took another gulp of his beer, staggering a bit.

"I thought you dumped her-"

"Sweet Pea!" Jughead finally yelled, his frustrations reaching a raging boiling point. " _ Get _ the hell away from me!"

"Ah, relax, Jones. I'm just messin' with you," Sweet Pea said, nudging him. Jughead couldn't stop himself from shoving the Serpent out of his way, nearly knocking him to the ground. The mug of beer released from Sweet Pea's hand, crashing to the ground and shattering everywhere in a wet, glassy mess.

"Do I  _ look _ like I'm in the mood to be messed with?" Jughead challenged, but before Sweet Pea could retaliate, Donnie was shouting at them from behind the bar.

"Outside! Both of you! You're cut off for the night!" Jughead knew better than to argue with Donnie and  _ fine _ . He didn't  _ want  _ to be here anyway. Jughead headed for the door as fast as he could without running.

He had made it across the parking lot and almost to his truck when he heard Grinder call out to him.

"You got a  _ problem _ tonight, Jughead?" Grinder said, storming out of the bar.

"He misses his girlfriend," Sweet Pea jeered from behind him.

"Shut  _ up _ , Sweet Pea!" Jughead yelled, shoving him once more. The two began to tussle before Grinder stepped in, pushing them both off and away from each other.

"That's  _ enough! _ " he said gruffly. "I ain't your daddy. I'm not babysittin' you, that's not how this works. You shake hands and be done with it or you're out!" Jughead and Sweet Pea stared each other down, stubbornly waiting for the other one to make the first move. Usually, he would have fought it, but Jughead just wanted to be done with it. He stuck his hand out for Sweet Pea to shake, and he took his hand reluctantly.

"Sweet Pea. Get outta here," Grinder ordered, and the kid did as he was asked. Jughead knew a lecture was coming and he did not have the patience to deal with it, so he quickly tried to get back over to his truck.

"You had to do what you had to do, Jug," Grinder said and it made Jughead freeze. He jingled his keys in his hand, nervously awaiting whatever Grinder had to say next. The big man neared him, patting him on the shoulder. "I know how much you loved the girl. Losin' someone like that is one of the hardest thing's you'll have to do."

Jughead let out the breath he'd been holding, letting his head fall back to look up at the sky as he leaned against his truck. The sky was filled with stars, just like the last night he'd spent with Betty. The moon shined brightly down on him, as if it were smiling a cheshire cat grin. He let himself wonder if she might be looking at that same moon at that very moment; it made him feel close to her, even though he wasn't. It temporarily soothed his heart's wounds to think about.

"What did I even lose her for?" Jughead uttered. His throat was hoarse. He didn't want to cry anymore, didn't want to  _ feel _ this way anymore. The regret had moved into his heart and just wouldn't shake loose. He looked sideways at Grinder. "I don't even know what we're doing, anymore. I joined you guys because it was supposed to help me. But here we are. My dad is  _ still _ behind bars. I  _ still _ don't have a family. I  _ still _ can't protect the people I love so what am I doing here, Grinder? Because I need something to hang on to."

"The Serpents will show up. When the time is right, when you really need them. They'll come through," Grinder replied vaguely. "There are things in the works you don't even know about. It'll all make sense, you'll see."

"I'll see  _ what _ ?" Jughead countered, pushing himself from off his truck. He began to pace, the anxiety creeping back up within him. "That I can't help my dad? That he still won't tell me  _ anything _ important? That  _ being _ with Betty can't keep her safe, but I can't keep her safe when I'm away from her, either?"

"Something happen with your girl and those Roaches?" Grinder asked, leering at Jughead through low eyebrows. Jughead started to respond hotly, but sighed instead. He rubbed his eyes. He was so damn tired.

"No, no. Not that. Just… it's this dumb, meat-head jock back at my old school. He and Betty have a bit of a history-"

"Ex-boyfriend?"

"No,  _ God _ no. He's just this egotistical, misogynistic predator. Chuck Clayton. He kept this ledger of his conquests with the football team, and Betty got him and a couple guys suspended. It's a long story, but a few weeks ago someone vandalized her locker. They said ' _ go to hell serpent slut _ ' in pig's blood. It was because of me, because Betty tried to defend me and my dad-" Jughead stopped himself when he realized he was rambling on and on. Obviously Grinder had more important things than to listen to Jughead whine about petty, high school bullshit.

"That Clayton kid was behind that?"

"I guess, I mean… I  _ assume _ he was. I got a random voicemail from Betty today and she told me he admitted it to her. But that doesn't matter. He's  _ never _ going to stop-  _ none of it  _ is ever going to stop. She's just going to keep getting it, from Roaches, from morons like Chuck Clayton… I  _ don't _ know how to protect her."

Grinder gave Jughead a cocky grin, reaching into the pocket of his leather vest for his pack of cigarettes. Jughead watched him, awaiting some kind of response to everything he'd just unloaded, but Grinder took his time to light up. He took in a long drag, exhaling the smoke out into the cold, night air. It floated around in ropes, seeming to lasso around the moon.

"Well…" he chuckled, deeply. "I'm sure we can figure  _ something  _ out."

* * *

Betty saw Veronica out and told Polly goodnight before retreating back to her room. Various clothing articles and makeup items were strewn about, making her room look like it had just endured an earthquake. She huffed out an exhausted sigh, bending down to start collecting things up off the floor. She started to fill her arms when her eyes trailed to her window, where Jughead would sneak through.

The ladder was still there.

She hadn't had the nerve to take it down - she tried not to think about the fact that a part of her was probably hoping he'd climb up into her room, scoop her up off her feet and fix everything he had broke.

' _ Stop thinking like that _ ,' she scolded herself. She took a moment to study her reflection in the mirror on the way to her closet. Her new reflection. Her bangs were swept to the side, the golden color of her hair bringing out the golden flecks in her green eyes. They changed her face, somehow. Made her feel older. More confident - at least more than she felt before. Her cheeks were gently rouged, her lips a shade of ' _ ravish me red _ .' She hated to admit that Veronica had been right, she was ready for the change - and she liked it. She felt fierce. Like she was ready to fight to take her life back.

She was going to thrive, even with her heart in pieces.

She had no other choice.

Betty tossed the couple things she'd picked up into a chair, deciding that was enough work for the night. She was exhausted from not sleeping since the break up, but her heart felt calm enough to let her try. After stipping down to her panties and a tank top, she turned off her bedside lamp and nestled under her covers, hoping to drift off into blissful, dreamless, sleep.

It felt like Betty had barely closed her eyes when she heard the familiar sound of the ladder rattling against the side of her house. She smiled softly to herself as she heard his heavy boots, trudging up the metal steps -  _ clomp, clamp, clomp.  _ The window slid open and she felt the chill from the night air.

10:45. Her nightly visitor had arrived… And right on time.

Her bed bowed beside her, crushing under Jughead's weight as he slid up beside her, like he usually did. But instead of his warm, comforting arms, she felt the slick, cold leather of his jacket wrap around her.

She cocked her eyebrow, turning slightly towards him over her shoulder, "really wearing that thing all the time now, huh Juggie?"

That leather Serpent's Jacket. Even just the thought of it made her stomach swirl.

She could hear his lips part, the smirk in his voice as he told her, "I'm  _ poor _ , Betts. It's winter. And I have about three articles of clothing to my name." Regardless of his claim, she felt the bed jerk and heard the rustling sound of him tearing away the leather jacket. He returned, his long arms feeling a lot more familiar as they pulled her in, her back up snugly to his chest.

Betty shuddered and sighed, her eyes fluttering shut as she let herself fall into the vacant crevices of his body.

It felt like no time had passed at all and that both comforted and broke her, somehow.

"I miss not seeing you every day," Betty mumbled softly, mostly into her pillow.

"I'm always here," Jughead replied, his breath warm and welcome on the back of her neck. She groggily shook her head.

"Not like before."

He didn't respond to that - she wondered if he'd already drifted off to sleep, until he asked, "what was I thinking, leaving you?"

Betty's smile faded, her eyes opening slowly at his words. It was then that Betty realized… this was likely just a beautiful, deceitful dream.

To be sure, and feeling slightly insane, Betty rolled over to face him, her breath hitching when she actually saw him. She instinctively placed a hand on his cheek - it was soft and smooth. Just like always. He looked so real, his features delicately outlined by moonlight. She felt like it had been so long since she'd seen him, a small eternity. Time had been moving so fast and slow, lately. She never realized how badly she missed him until he was right there in front of her.

As she stared at him, taking in every line and curve of his face, her heart sank. She felt her eyes tearing. "You're not really here, are you?"

Jughead merely shook his head, slowly. His hand slinked softly down her arm, taking hers. He bought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss against her wrist. She  _ felt _ it, his lips and hot breath against her skin - it  _ felt _ real. Betty wanted to both sob and laugh at the same time, her eyes blurring with tears. She didn't really know  _ what _ was real and what was fantasy anymore.

"Let's  _ just _ pretend I am though. For a little while?" A tear fell down Betty's cheek, dampening her pillow. She nodded. If this was insanity, she never wanted it to end. She snuggled up closer to him, pressing her face into his chest and squeezing him tightly to her. He smelled  _ exactly _ how she remembered. His hand came up and cradled the back of her head.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Betts.  _ Never. _ "

"I know," she cried. She just wanted to be able to look at him and not feel so hurt by him. "I miss you  _ so _ much."

"I'm never very far away." She felt him rest his cheek on the top of her head, holding onto her even tighter. "While we're pretending… let's pretend that I'll still be here in the morning." Their faces were close, their breath circling one another. She felt a warmth grow within her, a longing.

Betty tilted her chin up and kissed Jughead hard on the mouth. She kissed him passionately, hungrily. A way she'd only experienced with him once before in the privacy of his trailer.

She took in every sense of him she could - the way his body felt under her fingertips, the way he tasted and smelled. Jughead kissed her back, pulling her closer, so close she thought they might melt into one another. Soon his lips broke from hers to find her neck, kissing and softly biting and the sensitive skin in a way that made her whole body ache for him. She wanted so badly for his to be real, tears stinging her eyes as she listened to the quiet, breathy sounds they made between them.

Betty felt his hand slowly but deliberately slide down the length of her thigh and between her legs, causing a sharp gasp to fall from her throat. Her fingernails dug into his skin for a change, trying to alleviate a different kind of pain within her as her hips rocked against him.

Please be real, her mind raced. Please.

Betty pawed at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off, to which he happily obliged. When he came back down her covered her like a security blanket, warming her and comforting her. His fingers interlaced with hers and he kissed her again: her lips, her neck, her jaw. The pressure of him right up against her, between her legs was, was unbearable.

"Jug," his name fell easily from her lips, it felt amazing to say it at all. "I  _ love _ you."

Betty opened her eyes and he was gone. She was sweating, her breath short, her body empty as she looked around her room, blinking away the darkness.

She knew it was just a dream - so why did her heart feel like it was broken all over again?

Betty brought her knees up to her chest and sobbed.

Betty took the rest of the weekend to get her head on right after the incredibly vivid and misleading dream. She was desperate for things to start to feel normal again. Her heart still ached in her chest and she still missed Jughead more than ever, but she had to get on with her life, somehow. She couldn't keep living in this misery.

* * *

Come Monday morning, Betty couldn't make it from one class to the other without about a million gawking stares - she knew she looked different, but she hardly expected it would have this kind of a reaction from people. Even Cheryl complimented her, and it even seemed partially sincere.

No amount of makeup could take all the pain away, but at least she felt better about  _ herself  _ and that was all that mattered - not that she didn't like herself before. Betty wanted more than anything to stay true to who she was. But as she was figuring out, there was a darkness inside that she would have to learn to accept. Being the girl next door no longer fit her like a glove.

Veronica had bought a lot of clothes that would have fit perfectly into  _ her own _ wardrobe, and there was a lot Betty was uncomfortable wearing. She improvised though, mixing and matching with her own closet, trying to balance out just enough sugar with her spice.

"Oh, em, effing, gee. You look  _ unreal _ ," Kevin said, looking like a proud papa whose little girl was all grown up. He extended his arms out to embrace her, "I always hoped you'd learn to accessorize…"

Betty peeled herself from him, straightening out her now-disheveled top and smoothing out her skirt, "c'mon. I wasn't  _ that _ bad-"

"Betty you dressed like my 83-year-old grandmother," Kevin replied flatly. "Cardigans? Capri pants?" Betty playfully shoved him, and the two of them sat at their usual lunch table, waiting for the rest of the gang to arrive.

Betty saw Veronica appear in the doorway to the cafeteria, but instead of her usual, cheerful self, she looked slightly panicked. Betty caught eyes with her and waved her over.

"Hey, what's going on? Why do you look so freaked out?"

"Betty, you're not going to believe this-" Veronica started, but it was too late. Betty looked past her and saw Chuck walking into the cafeteria. He had a dislocated arm, he looked like he'd been badly beaten. Betty's mouth hung open in shock.

"What happened to him?" Kevin whispered. Veronica scooted in closer to them.

"That's what I was trying to tell you. Chuck got jumped this weekend."

"What?" Betty cried, "by who?" As soon as those words left her mouth, Betty's stomach dropped. She had a sinking feeling she knew the answer to that question already.

"I guess a couple of big dudes mugged him a few blocks away from his house, by the football field-" Veronica went on to tell them what all had happened, but Betty couldn't hear her anymore. Not with the way Chuck's eyes briefly flitted to hers, then away. Like… like he believed she had something to do with it. And a part of her knew that she did.

Determined, Betty stood and walked straight over to him. She could hear Veronica and Kevin protesting behind her, but she  _ had _ to talk to him. She  _ had _ to know. When she got closer to Chuck, he seemed uncomfortable, disturbed.

"Chuck. What happened to you?" Betty asked him outright. "Who did this to you?"

Chuck glared at her through two blackened eyes, "I think you know." Betty shook her head, her heart leaping to her throat. She wanted to ask him more, but he kept looking over his shoulder - he was scared. Paranoid.

"Just… stay away from me, okay? I won't mess with you anymore. I don't need  _ any _ more of this crazy shit in my life-"

"Chuck,  _ wait _ . I didn't have  _ anything _ to do with this-" Betty tried to explain, but he was already walking away.

"Tell your boyfriend to keep his friends away from me, too," Chuck called out over his shoulder. As soon as he left, Kevin and Veronica were at her side.

"Why do you  _ insist _ on confronting that skeezeball?" Veronica shuddered. "What was that even about?"

"I just.. I don't…" Betty stammered. She wanted to say what she'd already been thinking. That she left that voicemail for Jughead about Chuck, and then he just so happened to get jumped within 48 hours. She knew, in her heart of hearts, she knew. Jughead had arranged for the Serpents to rough Chuck up, get him to stay away from her for good. Scare him off.

And it had worked.

She felt a real, happy smile crack across her red lips. Betty knew Jughead was protecting Betty from afar, there was  _ no _ doubt about it in her mind. Because of this, she knew what she'd known deep down, all along:

Jughead still loved her.

She had told him she would never stop fighting for him, and this fight was far from over.

* * *

 

**To Be Continued...**


	5. ancient history

 

* * *

' _We are not our parents.'_

_Five simple words._

_They opened up a world of possibilities for two destined lovers. And while they were meant to merely provide comfort in a girl's time of crisis, they ended up meaning so much more._

_Because what if they were_ _their parents? What if they were simply retreading old territory that had been forged long before they were even born?_

_What if their purpose, among all else, was to right their parent's wrongs - be able to accomplish what they never could? It would seem with the obstacles in their way, they were doomed to repeat history._

_But not if a certain Hitchcock blonde had anything to do with it. Betty Cooper was not one to give up so easily._

* * *

After seeing Chuck's state that morning, Betty didn't hesitate to skip lunch – not that she had much of an appetite, anyway. She needed answers, and there was only _one_ person who possibly had them.

A little part of her wondered if she would run into Jughead when she arrived to visit FP. The thought made her both hope for it and dread it. And while Betty longed to see him again, she feared that seeing him under the wrong circumstances would make things worse.

She rounded the last corner to the police station, her hands tugging her hair into a messy ponytail as if she were about to go to war - makeover or not, a ponytail was always more practical option when she was sleuthing.

There were a few cars coming into and leaving the parking lot, but one car stood out to Betty and made her stay hidden behind a pickup truck. It was her mom's car, and it was definitely her mom driving. She looked distracted. And Betty knew her mom enough to know that it was the look she had when things didn't go as she had planned.

As soon as Alice turned out of the parking lot, Betty made her way inside the station, instantly coming into contact with Sheriff Keller talking to the receptionist.

"Hi, Sheriff Keller," she greeted with a big smile as she tried to mask her powerful curiosity, "Was that my mom I just saw leaving?"

" _Yep_ … wouldn't be the first time Alice came down here to see FP," he answered absently, flipping through a file that he seemed much too interested in, "Let me guess, you're here to see him, too? Sorry, kid. Visiting hours are over."

Betty stuffed her hands deep in her jacket pockets, wanting to hide how put off she was that her mom was just here visiting Jughead's dad, and apparently it wasn't the first time.

But for _what_ , exactly? To rub it in that he was still behind bars regardless of being proved innocent for Jason's death? To pull more details out of him surrounding Jason? Betty was really hoping she had made her mom back off after her speech at the Jubilee, but maybe not.

"Is it okay to go back? I'll be quick. I promise." Keller exchanged a quick look with the receptionist, and then gave her a single nod.

The receptionist handed her a clipboard that held the visitor sign in sheet. She couldn't help but glance at all the names as she signed her own. She saw her mom's name listed about five times and that was only her skimming. Her eyes searched more for Jughead's name, and finding " _JJ_ " uncaringly scribbled on the line, but only a few times.

Keller escorted Betty to the cells, and she felt her heart shatter a little when she spotted FP. He was sitting on his bunk with his back slumped against the wall. He looked defeated, like life was not worth all of this, and it made her try to imagine what it was like being stuck in a 6 by 8 room everyday with nothing but a hard bed and disgusting toilet.

Yet as soon as FP rolled his head to the side and saw that it was Betty, a smirk curled his lips and there was a small glimmer in his tired eyes, "Now... _there's_ a Cooper I don't mind seeing." She tried to grin back at him as she absentmindedly grabbed a dirty stool and sat down. "To what do I owe the pleasure? I gotta say, I'm feelin' pretty popular today."

"My mom doesn't know I'm here," Betty revealed quickly, her nerves on edge. His warm smirk seemed to just exacerbate her nervousness.

Maybe because it reminded her so much of Jug.

"Funny… she said the exact same thing about you. You two are so much more alike than you probably realize."

"Are you trying to flatter or insult me? Betty asked wryly, to which FP merely chuckled. Betty rubbed her sweaty palms down her jeans before instinctively closing her fists. As soon as she felt her nails swipe against her scars, however, she unclenched her fingers. She was trying to remain aware of her actions.

FP watched her wordlessly, and he could tell she was debating how to proceed with whatever she was there for. Though he had some strong guesses - the strongest being Jughead.

But seeing Betty there on the other side of the bars threw him back in time. He recalled when he was a teenager and got thrown in jail for some petty fight that happened outside a bar, well past curfew. It wasn't even his fight ( _that_ time), he was only trying to split it up. But with his reputation and his zip code, he was an easy target to blame.

Alice, who he guessed was probably around Betty's age at the time, must have followed the cop car that night. She was there before he even got processed in.

"Why'd you have to intervene, you idiot? Everything was going _fine_ until you-."

" _Shut_ it, Alice," he hissed through his teeth. He watched in fascination as her eyes appeared to turn to stone right before him. He couldn't ever imagine being her enemy. She was both a sight for sore eyes and absolutely terrifying. She stepped toward the bars of his cell, her Serpent leather jacket scrunching audibly when she crossed her arms hotly over her chest.

"You want me to leave you here?" she threatened.

He snickered darkly before stepping to the bars on his side. His hand clutched onto the cold metal, "You act like you have jurisdiction of who gets released and who stays."

"I don't mean in _there,"_ she emphasized, waving at his jail cell carelessly with her delicate fingers that were not afraid to strangle someone, "I mean _Riverdale."_

He felt his heart drop into his stomach, but tried his best to mask it, "Y-you wouldn't _leave._ Not without-."

Her lips pursed and her face lost all emotion. One perfect eyebrow rose, and he didn't have enough time to study all her features before she said, " _Watch_ me." She spun from him, her long, thick hair (the hair that he loved smelling, stroking, pulling…) flipping over her shoulder.

"I'm… I'm here about Jughead." Betty's voice brought him back to the present.

"Figured as much," FP said frankly, prepared to tell her all that Jughead had said to him, even though he was sure his son would _not_ be happy with him.

Betty watched him skeptically, tilting her head to the side, "But first… _why_ was my mom here?" He watched as her eyes narrowed in determination. If her eyes were just a little bit colder, a little bit harder, they would be exactly the same as Alice's.

"Would you believe me if I told you she comes by to check on me?"

Betty's lips turned downward into a frown, " _No…_ "

That didn't sound like her mom at all.

"Then I guess there's no reason for me to answer that."

She immediately sat up straight, having not anticipated an answer like that. She'd seen Alice with FP before; there seemed to be nothing but animosity between the two. Alice was so quick to believe FP was guilty and tried her best to either get him locked up or run him out of town. If FP ever _did_ decide to catch a bus somewhere, it would certainly be because of the rumors Alice perpetrated.

"My mom has a lot of sides to her…" Betty still defended, albeit weakly. She fidgeted with her hands in her lap, "...and apparently a lot of secrets." FP grunted as he stood, stretching out his cooped-up limbs. After he was loosened up he leaned his back casually against the stone wall behind him once more.

" _Believe_ me, I know."

His words were surprising to Betty yet again. They made her think about the dastardly dinner they all had together the night of homecoming. There had been a tension between Alice and FP that was a lot more ominous than her mother's real intentions that night.

But while their banter had seemed strained, as soon as it came out that Alice threw a brick through the window of Hal's temporary home, FP had brightened. The way he looked at her... like they were old friends and he finally recognized her: ' _Oh…! There you are... I've been looking for you…'_

"So…" Betty's voice hummed as she took a tentative step towards the bars. "You and my _mom…_?"

FP stopped her right away, "Look, I don't really want to get into our sordid past… nor do I think Alice would appreciate it, to be honest-"

"Well, my mom isn't exactly forthcoming with information, these days…"

"Sounds about right. She's always been a bit of an enigma. And if I know Alice - _and I think I do_ \- any answers you're looking for is probably shoved in a box in the darkest, deepest corner of your attic - if she even cared to keep anything, that is." There was a sadness in his voice that Betty couldn't ignore if she tried.

"What kind of answers?" Betty was now more curious than ever, but she could tell he wasn't about to give anything else away.

He cemented that impression as he went on, "If your mom wanted you to know, she'd tell you. But it isn't gonna come from me. That's not my job. _My_ job," he stressed, pointing a finger in her general direction, "Is to talk about my hardheaded son and how he needs you now more than ever."

Betty's heart skipped a beat at the sudden shift to the topic of Jughead. She felt her shoulders droop and her chest ache.

"Could've fooled me…" she mumbled, picking at the fraying ends of her jeans.

"Apparently, he _did_ fool you if you believe otherwise," he deadpanned.

"Well, I'm not sure what I was supposed to think _or_ feel. Especially since he broke up with me." She hated how even just saying the words make her throat close and her eyes water.

This did not go unnoticed by FP, "Because he thinks he has to push you away. You know… Juggs hasn't had the best of luck with people sticking around when things got hard," he paused, then muttered, "And your mom didn't help the situation much…"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Betty's voice was a low rumble and it burned in the back of her throat. She almost didn't even _want_ to know - if she found out that her mother had something to do with Jughead leaving her, she wasn't sure what she might do. The thoughts alone made Betty bend her fingers, trying everything in her power not to gouge at her wounds with her freshly painted fingernails.

"Nevermind. Forget I said anything-" FP attempted, halfheartedly. Fiery anger flushed through Betty's veins.

" _Stop_ protecting her. You really think she'd do the same for you?" FP looked like he regretted bringing it up at all, but it faded fast with her sound logic. Her face relaxed when she thought about what was really at stake here.

" _Please?_ " she just about whimpered. He pushed himself off the wall with a groan, approaching her at the bars as his fingers snaked around the cool metal.

"Look… I'm only telling you this because you deserve to know what you're up against." Betty nodded slowly, encouraging him to go on. FP lowered both his eyes and his voice and she leaned in close to listen to him, "I probably don't have to tell you that Jughead's always been too hard on himself. He's got enough demons to battle without the added pressure of someone like Alice."

"What did my mother do?" Her face felt warm and her breathing shallow at the almost-revelation. She knew whatever he had to say to her, she wasn't going to like it. She needed him to spit it out before her head exploded.

"Jug came to see me earlier this week. Seems he's gotten himself into a bit of a predicament with some guys I owe money to. These are bad guys, Betty.

"Is he in danger?"

"I don't know. But it seems he thinks you might be. I think that's part of why he broke it off with you. I think he's trying to keep you safe."

Regardless of her anger and her nerves, Betty could feel the corners of her lips turn up into a smile, her eyes glistening. As quickly as it came, it passed though. Betty went on to ask, "but I don't understand. What about my mom? What did she do?" FP sighed.

"I asked him if there was anywhere he could lay low for a few days while I figured it all out. That's when he told me you guys broke up. What he _didn't_ say then, but he told me earlier today, was that your mom had a little chitchat with him the morning you two split. As if the Roaches weren't bad enough, she filled his head up with things he'd already been thinking… something about how he needed to let you go if he was gonna be running around with some _gang-_ "

" _What_?" Betty hissed, her stomach stirring. She should have known her mother had something to do with this. Her mother's words the night FP was arrested ran through Betty's mind and infuriated her more: " _I like Jughead, but I am so glad you are done with that family."_

Betty thought she'd made herself perfectly clear what Jughead meant to her that night. But always being fixated with appearances, Alice had found a way to root around in Jughead's brain, anyway. She locked on to his greatest insecurities and homed in on them. She pushed him over the edge.

What Betty couldn't wrap her head around was the fact that her mother had held her and stroked her hair and listened to her cry when Jughead broke her heart… and all the while she _knew_. Worse, she had an active role in it.

"Don't worry too much. I ripped her a new one when she was here. Told her she had no business getting involved and to leave my son out of her little head games."

"I'm sure she took that well," Betty grumbled sardonically. If that was true and FP laid into her, she suddenly knew why her mom looked so sour leaving the parking lot.

FP shrugged, "I suppose I can understand where your mom is coming from – I know how it looks. The Serpents aren't bad...not _really._ Alice knows that. But even still, a kid doesn't belong in a gang. Especially a kid like Jughead. He's already had a tough life. The Serpents aren't going to make it any easier, despite what he believes right now."

Deciding to put her resentment toward her mother to the side for now, Betty swallowed the lump in her throat and whispered harshly, "Did you tell _him_ this?"

FP laughed dryly, "No. But the kid never listens to me, anyway. His mom was the one that could always get through to him."

"Well...did you try calling her?" Betty asked and she knew it came out sounding demeaning - like it should have obviously been his first choice of action. She didn't mean it that way. It seemed to roll right off of him.

"Once," he admitted, "but she wouldn't accept the charges."

"Wait…" Betty's eyes narrowed again and she stood up from the stool, "She knows you're in _jail_ but still hasn't reached out to Jug?"

She wasn't sure why she was so surprised by this news. Jughead had told her about how he'd tried to catch a bus to Toledo the night his dad went to jail. He mentioned that Gladys had been elusive – that she had no real reason why Jughead couldn't come, but she was insistent that he stayed in Riverdale. Betty had a bad taste in her mouth where Gladys was concerned ever since - who just turns away their child like that?

"Gladys… has some issues. I'm sure she doesn't mean to let Jug slip through the cracks," he said, seeming strangely detached for the subject matter. Betty could only assume that Gladys was a sore spot for him, and there were not enough words, not enough visiting hours, to get into all that.

"That's no excuse," Betty found herself blurting before she could stop herself. FP smirked again. Betty wasn't sure if he was impressed by her candor, or simply just amused.

"You really are his biggest advocate, aren't you?"

Betty didn't answer. She wanted to tell him that she _used_ to be. But he didn't want her to be anymore.

"You know… Jughead told me what you did - what you _said_." Betty stared back at him and blinked a couple times. It was a wordless question FP went on to answer. "About you not giving up on me - or _him_ , for that matter. How determined you are to stand up for me and Jug. How you're not letting the empty words of the rest of the town change your mind." He leaned his head back against the cold concrete wall, looking at her through his peripheral vision, "If it wasn't for your looks, I would have a hard time believing you were Alice's daughter."

Betty wanted to argue with him, but she was too scared of her voice. She wanted to cry, she wanted to grab onto the cell bars and shake and scream. She wanted to know why everything she loved was taken from her without her permission.

"I _love_ your son, FP. And I wish I could stop, even just a little bit. _Believe_ me." Betty tried everything in her power to keep the tears from coming, but a few managed to escape, anyway. She wiped them away quickly and suppressed a sniffle. "I don't know how to be there for him or what to do to get him back. But I'm not going to stop trying… so long as I know he still loves me, too."

FP slowly reached through the bar, taking her hand and giving it a soft squeeze and a minuscule, tired smile.

"He still loves you, Betty," he said lowly, in the words of a man who has been broken over and over again, "Keep pushing. Don't give up on him just yet."

Betty couldn't help but wonder if maybe FP wouldn't be here if someone hadn't given up on _him_.

" _Okay_ ," she breathed, and with it suddenly felt the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders. It was as though having permission to still fight for Jughead was enough. She was _never_ going to stop.

"Now… get back to school. Your mom will have my ass if she knows you skipped to come see me." Betty gave him a weak smile and nodded. She knew he was right, and he didn't need any more grief than Alice had already caused him.

Betty said goodbye, but once she was outside she knew exactly what she needed to do. FP couldn't get through to Jughead, this much was clear.

But she knew someone who could.

Betty still had Gladys' number in her phone – she had tried to reach her around the time of Jughead's birthday, but never received a response. She knew, even while she was pressing the 'CALL' button that she was crossing a line, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Before, Jughead had been in trouble. But from the sounds of it, what FP had told her about Jughead getting into hot water with some guys FP owed money to? There was a chance he was in _real_ danger. And since Jughead wouldn't let Betty be the one to help him, she prayed that Gladys could.

"Hello?" came the smoky but soft voice on the other end. It sounded as though Betty had awoken her. She checked the time - it was just past noon, still quite early in the day, but probably not early enough for her to have just woken up.

"M-Mrs. Jones?"

There was a long pause before, "uh… yes? Who's this?" Betty took in a long, drawn-out breath before she found the nerve to continue.

"My name is Betty. I'm – I mean, I _was_ Jughead's… friend," she stammered. She had no idea how to even begin this conversation.

"Yeah, I know who you are. He talked about you - you guys used to play all the time, right? Alice Smith's daughter? "

"Yes…" Betty replied, cautiously - the way she mentioned her mother seemed to house slight disdain. Not that Betty was at all surprised by that. A lot of people in this town spoke of her mother with disdain in their voices. "Listen… I'm calling about Jughead-"

"Is he alright?" Gladys suddenly sounded much more alert. Betty gently kicked at a pebble with the toe of her shoe as she pressed the cellphone harder to her cheek.

"Not really… I think he's in trouble."

She heard Gladys heave a lofty sigh, "what kinda trouble?"

"Well, he's a Serpent now, if that tells you anything…"

Gladys swore on the other end, her words muffled for a brief moment, "Just like his _father-_ " Betty heard her say. She clenched her fist, feeling the rage burn within her once more and immediately coming to his defense.

"No, _not_ just like his father!" she spat. Before she could control herself, heated words started pouring from her mouth, "Seriously, what is _wrong_ with you!? Your son has been homeless for _months!_ In foster care, transferred schools, and taken away from everyone who actually cares about him! And all you can do is shrug?" Hot, frustrated tears shot to Betty's eyes.

" _Excuse_ me-?"

"No! You're _not_ excused. Because there _is_ no excuse! Why weren't you there? He needed you, Gladys! He needs his _mom-!_ "

Betty stopped when she heard someone yelling in the background on Gladys' line - it sounded like a man. Gladys covered the speaker and said something back to him, her words indistinguishable.

She came back, quickly uttering, "Look… I'm sorry Betty. I _really_ am but… I have to go. Please tell Jughead that I love him."

After that, the phone line went dead.

* * *

The first thing Jughead noticed about Hiram Lodge was his dark, piercing eyes; the eyes that his daughter most certainly inherited. He reckoned many had trembled under his intense stare, even if Hiram would be considered smaller in stature.

The next thing he noticed was the tracking device that was securely strapped to his ankle – a stipulation of his parole. When Hiram caught Jughead staring at it, he just laughed lightly, joking about how he was 'working from home, now.' Because of this, Grinder and Jughead had to meet him at the Lodge residence instead of the somewhere neutral, which is what Jughead would have preferred.

Actually, he would have preferred not having to meet with Hiram Lodge at all - especially as he watched the clock. It was _well_ past 4pm, so both school and River Vixens practice were over, meaning Veronica would be home soon. And based on the glare she gave him the last time he saw her, he had a pretty strong suspicion that she wasn't particularly fond of Jughead at the moment.

But he didn't have a choice in the matter.

Grinder _made_ him go – it was part of his repayment for Grinder orchestrating the hit on Chuck Clayton. At the time, Jughead had been so irate that he would have agreed to anything to see that guy pummeled to a pulp. And it was oh, so worth it. Watching Chuck get his ass served to him from a few yards away was liberating – the best kind of vengeance.

Jughead made sure he saw him watching it all go down. He made sure Chuck knew _exactly_ why this was happening to him.

But now that it was time to cash in on his end of the deal, he couldn't stop his sweating palms or nervous, bouncing knee.

If the intimidation by Grinder didn't get him over to the Lodge's, his conversation with his father over the phone earlier that day certainly did. His father had called him that very morning, a follow-up to his recent visit when Jughead told him about the Roaches. FP was supposed to get back to him with some kind of plan but unsurprisingly came up short. Because of this, Jughead had a backup plan. He knew there was a chance he would have to find some other way to get his dad out of jail and get the Roaches off his back – and unfortunately, this was the only other way he could think of.

That wasn't the only thing on his mind, however.

While on the phone to FP, Jug also let it slip that Alice had talked to him the morning he broke it off with Betty, which his father seemed far too interested in for his own good. In reality, Jughead knew there was a lot of truth to what Alice had said that morning. His father, however, saw it as some kind of direct, personal insult. Jughead wanted to ask him just why he was taking that news so hard, but their time ran out.

"You have somewhere you need to be?" Hiram mused when he noticed Jughead glancing over at the clock for probably the millionth time. Jughead said nothing, merely shook his head. Hiram just nodded and took a sip of something on the rocks, hissing through his teeth as it went down. He sized up Jughead, "you look about my daughter's age. Veronica Lodge. You know her?"

"I go to South Side," Jughead answered, sidestepping the question entirely. He wanted to cut to the chase, the _real_ reason they were here. "My dad…"

"Shame about FP," Hiram signed mournfully. Jughead narrowed his eyes; he couldn't tell if the guy was sincere. Hiram picked up his tumbler again, pointing in Jughead's direction before taking another sip, "You know, I can't say I didn't warn him about doing business with rich sociopaths like the Blossoms."

"Well, he's also done a lot of business for _you-"_ Jughead countered.

"That's different. The Blossoms are _criminals-"_ Hiram clarified, his gaze darkening. Jughead shot him a tight, scornful grin.

"Says the man wearing an ankle monitor…" An amused smile curved Hiram's lips and raised his eyebrows. His gaze turned to Grinder.

"His mouth is going to get him into all kinds of trouble," he noted, to which Grinder nodded in agreement.

"Already has. We've got an _infestation_ , if you know what I mean."

" _Roaches…"_ Hiram sneered into his glass, shaking his head, "FP sure is good at picking his business associates, isn't he?" Jughead ran his hands down the length of his face when the minute hand on the clock ticked forward. He was tired of all this bantering – he wanted to know exactly what they planned to do about getting his father out.

"We wanted to come here and ask you nicely to help us secure a lawyer-" Jughead flat out asked, tired of the runaround. He was beginning to get irritated that Grinder wasn't taking the lead or being his usual, assertive self. Hiram came up to the guy's chest and yet he seemed afraid of him. Jughead didn't feel quite as threatened.

"I'm afraid if FP got himself wrapped up in the Roaches, there's not much I can do. I've got too many eyes on me, just waiting to drag me back to Federal. It's too risky."

"So… that's it then? Use the little guys to do your dirty work but when they ask for something in return, you cave?" Jughead seethed, wringing his hands together in his lap when he suddenly felt the urge to upturn the table. He was tired of all the dead ends.

"Mr. Jones-"

" _Jughead,"_ he corrected sharply. He stood up when he simply could not sit still any longer, pacing toward the window. He looked down from the apartment balcony. For Riverdale, this apartment certainly was ritzy. He watched absently as an expensive Range Rover pulled up and a snooty-looking woman got out and handed her keys to the valet.

"Look, I know my dad has done a lot of bad things. And maybe he deserves to be in there… but I'm asking you, on behalf of him and everything he's done for you, just to consider it." Jughead didn't face Hiram as he asked, just closed his eyes and pressed on the area between them, trying to ward off that same headache. His brain felt like mush in his skull.

There was silence behind him and he prayed that Hiram was having a change of heart. He just wanted all this strife to go away – the kind of strife that usually went away when money was thrown at it.

"The best I can do is an anonymous donation," Hiram said after the agonizing silence. Jughead turned to face him, resting his back against the window. "Enough to secure the best lawyer in town… and a little extra to get the Roaches off your back." Hiram was standing now, his arms folded.

"What's the catch?" Jughead asked skeptically.

"I cannot be linked to this, whatsoever. And it will take me a few days to get the funds arranged, so I'd keep your head down, in the meantime. Also, I will tell you now… you will pay me back _ten-fold_. If you think being indebted to the Roaches is dangerous, you have _no_ idea what I am capable of."

Hiram extended his hand out, and Jughead gulped. He was having instant regret, especially when he caught a quick glimpse of Grinder's grave face. It was as if he was being enticed to make a deal with the Devil, himself.

"Are you sure you want to go down this road?" Hiram asked him. Jughead looked down at his extended hand, then up to his warm, welcoming smirk. He had heard once that the Devil wasn't ugly or scary – no. He was handsome and charming. That's how he worked, how he enticed and entrapped.

From the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He looked down onto the sidewalk below he saw Veronica and Betty, strolling down the road together and toward the Lodge's apartment building. He watched them, mesmerized by the way Betty's ponytail and her cheerleading skirt swished, her mouth moving fast, as though she were right in the heat of a detailed, exciting story. He missed that about her; the way she talked fast and her eyes lit up the moment she began talking about something she loved and she was passionate about.

He'd seen her talk this way so many times before, ever since they were kids. One particular time that really stood out to him was the end of freshman year when she had attempted to convince him to apply for the summer writing internship with her – the same one she'd been in the summer that Polly got sent away and Jason had been murdered.

Jughead and Betty had been maybe the only two students that took their creative writing class seriously. Maybe it was because of this that she thought Jughead would be selected. Maybe it had been something more. He really couldn't say for sure what her reason was, now.

Betty had smacked the white flyer down on the lunch table in front of Jughead, her eyebrow cocked and loaded.

" _Thoughts?_ " she had mused, tapping her chin with her finger thoughtfully and swaying on her feet. Jughead huffed out an amused laugh in her direction before glancing down at the paper:

**Princeton University Presents:**

_Young Aspiring Writer's Workshop_

_Hosted by Toni Morrison_

_Summer Teen Internship – Ages 15-17_

_Spots Limited. Submissions Due May 24th_

"I _think_ … Princeton is like, what? _Three_ hours away-?" Jughead began, all the self-doubt plaguing him immediately. He wasn't one to apply for internships. To be worked 40 hours a week with no pay? Seemed like a waste of time.

Betty shrugged one shoulder, her hands confidently finding her hips, "more like two hours away… and we can take a bus."

"-and I _think_ May 24th is literally one week away-" he added.

"Oh, don't be so pessimistic, Juggie! That's a _whole_ week! We can work on our submission essays together." His eyes continued to scan the page in front of him, his hand finding the back of his neck anxiously. He knew just how coveted a spot in Princeton's summer writing internship was. It would look amazing on _any_ college application and it wasn't as if FP and Gladys had set up any sort of college fund for him. He could use all the help he could get.

It was still a _huge_ commitment – one he was quite convinced he was up for. Things had been so strained at home, and the last thing he would ever want to do is leave Jellybean behind to try to make sense of all the mess without him.

He looked up at Betty's hopeful, soft eyes. He couldn't tell her about his struggles at home. He didn't want to burden her and if he were honest with himself, he would admit that he was ashamed. His home life was crumbling around him lately and it was looking pretty bleak.

"I dunno, Betts. Ten weeks is a long time. That's like the whole summer…" Betty slammed her palms down on the table, playfully leaning in toward him.

Jughead actually felt the breath stolen from him as she coyly said, "Well… at least we'll have each other." He wanted nothing more than to give her everything she wanted and _more_ when she said things like that. And she had no idea.

Jughead leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. A smirk crooked his lips and narrowed his eyes, "you're saying ' _we'_ a lot. Who's we, exactly?"

"You and me, _duh_ ," she laughed. She swung her body around the table and into the chair beside him. "Oh, c'mon. _I_ think it will be fun!"

" _I_ think it'll be work," Jughead grumbled lowly, rolling the sides of the paper up. He couldn't help but notice the admission fee: $549.99 – that amount was steep even if he wasn't poor. He quickly did the math and deduced that he had roughly $700 in an old shoe box in the coat closet at home; all his earnings he'd been saving from working at the drive-in. He'd had to hide it so FP didn't find it and blow it on some bet or booze.

He'd been saving to get a train ticket to New York. He figured he was just going to waste away in this town, why not go out with a bang like all the other writers and poets and dreamers did? In a big, romantic city full of life and art.

Princeton, New Jersey certainly wasn't New York City.

But when he looked into Betty's pleading eyes and studied her plump, parted lips… he saw all those beautiful things anyway. And maybe for once he'd have the chance to spend some one on one time with her, something he'd always wanted. Maybe away from this town - away from a particular, redheaded crush she'd been harboring all these years - she'd actually be able to _see_ Jughead. He'd always wondered if she could maybe love him… if she'd just give him the chance.

Maybe _this_ was that chance.

He shook the thoughts away because they suddenly seemed inherently selfish. Betty didn't see him that way and probably never would. He felt a frown forming on his face as he slid the paper back over to her, trying his best to look unimpressed.

"Why don't you just get Archie to go with you-" he found himself mumbling coldly before he could stop himself – it sounded just as bitter as it tasted. Her face fell a bit as she reached down and picked up the rejected flyer.

"Archie's not a writer, Jug. _You_ are… An amazing one."

"Oh yeah," Jughead snorted sarcastically. "I'm a real modern-day-Hemingway."

"I thought…" her words trailed off and he could see the insecurity painting her face red in embarrassment now. She shrugged, timidly folding the paper in half, "I thought it would be a great opportunity. For both of us."

 _Us_.

His defenses immediately fell when he liked the way that sounded. Probably too much for his own good.

Jughead chewed on his tongue a moment. His head fell back and he let out a long, surrendering sigh. He was never going to be able to say no to Elizabeth Cooper.

"You're gonna have to help me with my essay…" he told her. Betty's face brightened right away and she all but leaped into his arms. Jughead was stunned, but certainly not complaining. He hugged her back for only a moment, but when he realized he was enjoying it too much he pushed her off. He casually fixed his hat and smoothed out his jacket. He could already smell that her perfumed had rubbed off on him.

"C'mon. I have a reputation to uphold. So… cool it with all that touchy-feely stuff. You know I can't stand it."

"I know, I'm sorry!" Betty squealed into her hands. "I'm just too excited. You are seriously the best." Jughead smiled despite himself, hoping his face didn't look as flushed as it felt.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he replied coolly. He figured if he ate fewer burgers he could probably save up a little more to at least _eat_ while he was in New Jersey. "How many cup-o-noodles do you think $200 bucks will get me? At least a trunk-full, right?"

They worked together on their essays and sent them in at the exact same time. So, it wasn't shocking in the least when their reply letters came on the exact same day.

Jughead knew now that even if he became the world's most revered writer of all time, he would _never_ be able to put into words the way it felt when he read that letter that day at Betty's.

He'd received it in the mail but felt too nervous to open it. So, instead, he walked to her house. She'd barely gotten home herself, and her letter was still sitting, unopened on her counter. Evidently, she'd been just as nervous as he was.

"I was going to call you, but you being here is even better," she commented quietly as they both stared down at the two, white envelopes on her kitchen counter: one addressed to him, one addressed to her.

He nudged her softly, "you go first."

" _You_ ," she countered. They stared for another long moment before Betty sucked in a sharp breath. She reached down and took his in her hand, and then gave him hers.

"Same time?" she suggested. Jughead wasn't sure he liked the way it felt hold Betty's fate in the palm of his hands. Before he could say anything, she was ripping at the top of the envelope. He did the same.

His eyes scanned the page, praying he got to deliver her good news even more than he wished for himself. Then, after some brief skimming, he found the key phrase he was looking for:

' _We are honored to welcome you to Princeton's Young Aspiring Writer's Workshop.'_

"You got in," he nearly whispered. He felt his own smile forming, becoming almost uncontrollable when she looked up at him with happy, glossy eyes.

He wasn't sure what he expected her to say, but the last thing he thought it would be was, "so did you."

They quickly exchanged papers, now reading their own letters feverishly. He picked out words and phrases that stood out to him, as he was too shaky and excited to read it coherently. Words and phrases flashed across the page like ' _a rare talent_ ' and ' _a raw sense of realism lacking in many of our applicants_.'

' _Promising.'_

' _Extraordinary.'_

' _Voice of a generation.'_

It was Jughead who initiated the hug this time, gripping onto Betty as though she were a life preserver, keeping him from sinking. He relished in the way she held him back just as eagerly; her body felt electric in his arms as she squealed happily against him. His heart thumped against hers and he wondered if he felt it too, the way they drummed in sync.

"I _knew_ we could do it!" she said into his shoulder, her hot breath radiating through his trademark ' _S'_ shirt. As he took in the smell of her hair, he tried to remember the last time he'd been this happy. This purely, completely happy.

That is why he was so mad at himself for letting himself trust it.

When Jughead hurried home to tell his mom the news, he knew it was going to be hard on her. She wasn't used to not having him around, and this time it was going to be for ten whole weeks. And of course, it worried Jughead, too. Many days, Gladys just wasn't up for the challenge of taking care of Jellybean and those were the days he was most concerned about. He knew his mother really struggled with depression and there were times she wouldn't even get out of bed.

Those were the days he would take Jelly out on some kind of adventure, use his small earnings to get them burgers and milkshakes. Go see a movie. Anything. He just knew that they were better off anywhere but home.

He couldn't let that hold him back this time.

He _made_ it. For once in his life, he was being told he was good at something, _damn it_. And he knew he would never get out of this godforsaken town – his godforsaken _family_ – if he didn't at least try. All he kept thinking about was how if he could just get a chance, some kind of a break, he could get his dad into a good rehab. Get his mom the help she needed. More than all that, he'd be able to take care of Jellybean in a way she never had before.

It wasn't just about him, anymore. It was his job to pull his family out of the gutter, once and for all.

And Betty had helped him _see_ that, yet she didn't even know it. Just bringing him the flyer that day and telling him she believed in him was enough for him to almost believe it himself.

Jughead pushed open the door to the trailer, his letter victoriously clutched in his hands.

"Mom! Jellybean!" he called out, heading back to the bedroom when he didn't see them in the living room. His smile faded and his stomach plummeted when he opened the bedroom door to see the partially packed suitcase, his mom manically shoving clothes into it. She looked up at him, her eyes wild.

"Juggie. You're home. _Good_." Jughead swallowed as he took in the sight of her; she was thin, frail. Had she always been that way? Was he just now noticing? She was sweating and clearly shaken. He immediately recognized this as one of her episodes, the kind she had every time life became just too much to bear. It was the high before her fall. He knew she was headed for a 'down day.'

"Where… are you going?"

" _We_ ," she grunted as she shoved more clothes into her already bursting bag. "Get your stuff. We're outta here."

"What?" he hissed, his thoughts instantly leading him to Betty. He felt sick for even thinking about that right now. _Selfish._ "Why?"

"I'm done. I'm so done, Jughead. We aren't doing this anymore-" Jughead neared her, reaching his hands out to halt her, to calm her. It didn't seem to be working the way it always used to. She jerked her body from him, "don't touch me!" she screamed as she clawed her fingers through her hair and pulled. Jughead took a step back, knowing better than to do anything other than what Gladys asked when she was like this.

"Where are we going?" he asked as evenly as he could, despite the circumstances and the hard thumping of his heart in his chest.

Gladys began to zip up the bag furiously before shoving it onto the ground with a loud thump. She once again pushed her fingers through her untamed, black hair, moving the strands from falling in front of her face. Her icy blue eyes found his, "we're going to go live with grandma and gramps for a little while," she told him.

"In Toledo?" he asked, but it wasn't a question. Gladys briefly nodded, and Jughead felt overcome with emotion. The choice was being taken from him altogether.

"What about dad?" he choked out, hoping to bring her back down to earth. She scoffed at him.

" _You_ tell _me_. You even know where he is?"

Jughead tried to answer but realized that no, he didn't. In fact, he didn't really remember the last time he'd seen FP. It wasn't too uncommon for his dad to go MIA for a few days at a time, usually before or after some kind of trouble with the law. And his disappearing act almost always coincided with one of his mother's meltdowns.

Gladys neared him, cupping his face with her hands. She smiled a sweet, delirious sort of smile at him, even though tears were pouring down her cheeks. It was eerie.

"C'mon, baby. Come _with_ me. There's nothing _for_ us here," she cried. Jughead's mouth turned downwards into a frown. It took everything out of Jughead not to cry right along with her. He just couldn't understand how every time things started to look up for him, everything always came crashing back down.

"I can't take it here anymore. This isn't any kind of life for you. For your sister." Jughead felt his heart skip a beat at the mention of his sister.

His mom was right. This wasn't any kind of life for Bean. He hated that she was getting to an age where she would really start figuring out how complex their family dynamic really was. He'd tried so damn hard to shield her from it, but it didn't matter. Life was going to chew her up and spit her out. Just like the rest of the Jones clan. They were a cursed family.

"How are you getting to Toledo?" Gladys shrugged, rubbing her tears with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Don't know, yet. Your dad and the truck are _god-knows-where_. Took all the money we had with him. I have maybe twenty bucks in cash, figure that _might_ be enough for a bus ticket." Jughead knew it wasn't enough money for a bus ticket, but he didn't have the heart to tell her. "Or… I dunno. Maybe we'll just hitch or something… figure it all out on the way."

She took in a long, shaky breath, trying to get herself right before going on. She shook her head and stared absently at nothing, her wheels clearly turning. Jughead figured this haunting image of his mother at the end of her rope would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Gladys' eyes slowly trailed to Jug's face, "I don't care how I get out of here… I can't be here when he gets home. If I don't leave while he's gone, I'll never go."

Jughead knew his mother's words were true. She'd tried to leave before. His dad had always made promises he wouldn't keep and get her to stay.

There was never even a moment's hesitation as Jughead dug deep into his pocket and pulled out the tattered, crinkled envelope that held his acceptance letter and all of his savings.

There was no way his mom and his sister were going to hitchhike over 6 hours away to Toledo - not over his dead body. He took his letter out of the envelope and slipped it into his back pocket. There was the slightest tinge of sadness in his heart as he handed his mom the money. He'd brought his total up to roughly $800, and that was more than enough to get them there and settled.

His hopes of getting out of this town were dashed and scattered like billions of stars across the night sky - one's he'd gazed at. Wondered about. Wished on. Still, he could not regret it. At least he'd know they were okay. Maybe they'd have a fresh start - a _real_ chance. Maybe her grandparents _were_ more equipped to get them on their feet than he ever would be.

Gladys didn't turn the money down, simply clutched the envelope over her heart and rested her hand on her son's cheek, "you're not coming with us… _are_ you?" she asked him. He gave her the most comforting grin he could, even though it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

"Nah. I have too much here, you know?"

He wasn't sure why he said that. Jughead was vastly aware that he had nothing. The only reason he stayed, which he maybe even knew then, was because of Betty. He couldn't imagine not seeing her every day.

He wiped his nose with his sleeve and gave a casual shrug before shoving his hands in his back pockets, "plus… who'll take care of dad?"

"Who'll take care of _you?"_ He wanted to ask her why that suddenly mattered after all these years, but he didn't. Instead he gave her another reassuring smile. A hug that felt a little too sad and a little too final.

"I'll figure it out, mom. I've gotten pretty good at it."

Jughead saw his mom and Jellybean off, and that part was hard enough. Now he had to go let Betty down. He texted her, asking her to meet him at the only place he could think – Pop's.

"What do you mean you can't go?" she'd asked, her wide, questioning eyes instantly fill with worry. She pushed her milkshake away so she could get a better look at him from across the table. "We just got our approval letters… all we have to do is send in the fee-"

"Look, just-" Jughead found himself beginning hotly, defensively. He exhaled, his shoulders slumping. He hated disappointing her more than anything. He figured he would keep his explanation short. "Something came up. Family stuff."

"Is everything alright?" Her worry intensified, her hand instinctively coming up to rest comfortingly atop his. Jughead wanted to tell her everything, just spill his guts all over the table right then and there. He wanted to feel safe and let it all out and cry and tell her he had no idea what was going to happen to him.

But he was stubborn. And full of pride. And he didn't care to explain his tragically pathetic life to the girl he was in love with. All it would do is make her feel sorry for him, and he could never have that. He wanted her love, not her pity.

"Everything is fine. I promise," he lied. At first, he felt bad for lying, but when he watched the worry drain from her eyes, he knew he'd made the right choice. "My mom got a really good job in Toledo. She's taking my sister so… it's important that I'm home, you know? Plus… my dad wants to spend some time with me. Take me fishing and all that weird, father-son bonding crap." She didn't look completely convinced, but she breathed out a surrendering sigh anyway. He lowered his head shamefully, "I'm sorry, Betty. It's just bad timing, is all…"

"Jughead Jones," Betty smiled, that warm, beaming smile that basically melted him. "You _really_ are the most thoughtful, kindest, most amazing person. Your parents are so lucky to have you." He felt the blood pool to his cheeks. If she only knew what those words did to him – even if he knew at the time her words were platonic. It didn't matter. It made his heart skip a beat all the same. "Juggie, are you _blushing?_ " she teased.

"Shut _up_ ," he groaned, nudging her with her elbow, playfully. She laughed and it was the sweetest sound in the world. The only silver lining to his entire day was that sound. Her laughter tapered and she gave a sigh. A shrug.

"I'm still sad you won't be there with me. Are you sure you can't work something out? This is such a great opportunity. And you've _earned_ it, Jugg… I'd hate to see you let it pass you by…"

It was only then that he noticed her hand was still on his. For only a split second he was conflicted, once more. He wanted nothing more than to go. But the money was gone. The opportunity. The chance. Maybe he was doomed for Betty Cooper to only ever see him as a friend.

"I'm sure. This is where I need to be, right now."

She nodded.

She _understood._

She _always_ did.

Jughead felt awful, but his lie was so convincing even _he_ almost believed it. He liked to consider himself morally gray; more likely to be honest even when it hurt someone's feelings. But he never really felt like he could do that to Betty. Hell, he couldn't even tell her that she deserved far more than the roller coaster ride that was Archie Andrews at the time. A part of him lived to protect Betty Cooper – after all…. She had definitely spent a lot of time protecting _him_ their whole lives.

Less than a month later, Betty would be a week or two into her internship.

Polly Cooper would be shipped off to the sisters.

Archie Andrews would begin a torrid love affair with his teacher.

Jason Blossom would be murdered.

And because of all these things and more, Jughead's life would never be the same.

"So? Do we have a deal?" Hiram asked, bringing Jughead's thoughts back to reality. Jughead saw that his hand was still out for him to shake. He was suddenly filled with dread – though he wasn't sure if it was the deal he was about to make or knowing that Betty was on her way up with Veronica as he decided.

And he _had_ to decide, because _no decision_ was still a decision, nonetheless.

It was then he realized, it didn't matter if Hiram was evil – if he made this deal, the Roaches would be off his back for good.

And Betty would be _safe_.

And as usual, even from afar (and even if she didn't believe it anymore), that was all that had ever really mattered to Jughead: never letting her down again. Without another thought, his hand roughly clasped onto Hiram's.

" _Deal_."

* * *

"So… run this by me one last time," Veronica mused as they walked through the front door of her apartment. She set her belongings down in the foyer. "You think _Jughead_ was behind Chuck's mugging?"

Betty shook her head. When she heard it aloud it sounded almost insane, "That's just it. I don't _think_ it was a mugging. They didn't _take_ anything. And Chuck told me to tell my boyfriend to keep his friends away from him."

"Could he just be assuming Jughead was behind it?"

"Maybe. But… I really don't think so. I know it sounds crazy, V-" Betty explained, but now Veronica was shaking her head and waving her index finger in Betty's direction.

"No, no. Not quite crazy. Given Jughead's most recent company, I would say that isn't outside the realm of possibility." She sauntered toward the refrigerator, fetching two cherry colas, setting them on the counter and popping the tops off. "But what does it _mean?"_

"I was hoping you could tell me," Betty responded, plopping down on the couch exhaustedly. She blew the fresh fringe from her eyes – it was going to take a lot of getting used to, this new hairstyle. "Aren't you the expert on these things?"

"Ha!" Veronica chirped, handing Betty a cold soda. "Fashion, _yes_. Boys? _Sure._ Territorial gangs of upstate New York? _Hmm._ No. Not completely the expert on that one, actually," she said with more than a hint of sarcasm in her tone, to which Betty just smirked. "Well, _besides_ the point that I don't think you should have gone to see _FP_ in jail… what else did he say?"

Betty shrugged, "I mean… a lot. And nothing at all. I think my mom and FP used to… I don't know. _Date?"_

" _What?!"_ Veronica shrieked, "That is _wild._ Not that I blame her. He's definitely got that bad boy vibe going on. Those Jones boys certainly know how to brood…" Betty snickered but ignored her best friend's (slightly inappropriate) comment.

Betty smiled without meaning to, "He thinks Jughead still loves me."

"He's got an odd way of showing it."

"I know. But that's the thing. He _is_ showing it."

"By getting Chuck pummeled by thugs?" Betty's face twisted into a grimace, she gave another shrug.

"I guess…"

"How romantic," Veronica said flatly. Betty wanted to tell her about the phone call with Gladys, but heard someone coming. Veronica brightened.

"Hi, daddy," her voice chimed sweetly. She pushed herself up and off the couch when Hiram entered the room. Betty had completely forgotten the Hiram had gotten out this week. She sat up straighter on the couch. Veronica gave him a long hug and then turned to address Betty, "B this is my dad, Hiram. Dad, this is Betty," she introduced. Hiram smiled politely, and Betty tried not to stare at his ankle bracelet.

Betty stood and greeted him, "Hello, Mr. Lodge. It's nice to meet you."

"Always a pleasure meeting Veronica's friends. She's told me so much about you," Hiram told her, and something about that sentence made Betty's stomach tighten and her cheeks warm. She wasn't sure she _wanted_ Hiram Lodge to have heard ' _so much about'_ her.

"Um, dad?" Veronica's tone was much darker now. She pried herself from her father's side to near the dining room table and picked up one of the three half-drank glasses off the table, studying it in her hand, "did you have company?"

Betty's nerves grew; she knew Veronica was highly suspicious of her father and vowed to watch him like a hawk when he got out, so the interrogation beginning to unfold in front of her instantly made her uneasy.

Betty watched as Hiram's mouth twitched, another charming, comforting smile spreading like molasses after a moment.

"Just a few work associates. Nothing to worry about, mija." Veronica's face sobered; she didn't look convinced. Before she could argue with his explanation, Betty cleared her throat. Both of their dark-set eyes snapped to hers.

"I can't really stay," she said, holding up her backpack. "I have some chores I need to take care of at home." Veronica side-eyed her father, and then set the glass back down on the table with a glassy clink.

"Of course," she surrendered, but only for now. "C'mon. I'll walk you out."

Betty followed and felt Hiram's eyes never leave her as she left the room. He seemed nice enough, but there was certainly something… strange… about Veronica's father.

Like he _knew_ something about her.

She shook the feeling off and said goodbye. She had other things to worry about for now.

Betty was still recounting her conversation with Gladys when she got home that evening. The moment she opened the door she tossed her backpack uncaringly into a chair and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. It was there that she found the note that Alice had taken Polly to an OB/GYN appointment. She was thankful she was home alone - she wasn't in the mood to confront Alice just yet. Not without some sort of proof-

_Proof._

She instantly remembered what FP had said, about the possibility of a box in the attic. While she was aware he was being oddly facetious at that moment, she wouldn't put it past her mother to box up the most intimate parts of her past. She was, after all, full of secrets.

So Betty unlocked the entry to the attic as though she were unlocking the gates of hell.

Her belly was in knots as she listened to the lengthy groan of the seldomly used stairwell. While she was hesitant to find whatever answers were up there, Betty was even _more_ unsure just what questions she was trying to unravel.

Of one thing she _was_ certain – FP told her that she would find _something_ up here. He and her mother had been _far_ too ambiguous about their pasts and the way they intertwined. Betty believed that maybe if she could prove who her mother really was, she would be able to discover the origin of her own darkness. All this time she'd felt like the odd one out in her picture-perfect, little family. She always seemed to be battling demons they didn't appear to have in common.

Betty's fingers trailed gingerly over the countless, long-lost family heirlooms, all hunkered down and collecting dust. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw her " _Emily,_ " her favorite doll from when she was little. She was still dressed in the same pink party dress she'd been wearing the day Betty had decided she was 'too old' for her.

Discarded. _Forgotten_.

Betty clutched Emily to her chest, instinctively pressing a kiss into her matted, honey-colored hair. She suddenly felt very much like this old, forgotten doll.

Betty spent a good hour rummaging before she found a box over in a corner, hidden under a few other boxes. But instead of being marked as 'Grandma Cooper's China' or being filled with linens like most of the others, the box was simply labeled ' _Smith_ ' – her mother's maiden name.

Betty ran her hand along the top of the dusty old box, unveiling the word ' _junk'_ scribbled in her mother's handwriting. Without a second thought, Betty yanked at the packing tape. The loud, ripping sounds echoed through the attic around her, nearly giving her away, but she didn't care at this point. She opened the box, ready to take a peek into her mother's secret world.

There were a lot of mementos packed neatly into the box, typical things like yearbooks and birthday cards. Betty reached in and pulled out a small, tin container. She opened it to reveal at least thirty ticket stubs and colored bracelets from various concerts her mother had attended: Nirvana, The Rolling Stones, Tom Petty; all were withered and aged with time.

Betty was floored by this discovery alone; she'd never even heard her mother so much as hum a song that wasn't from church or the easy-listening radio station, and even then, it was rare. Already she was beginning to wonder if her mother had been a stranger living under the same roof as her all this time.

Next Betty pulled out a report card, dated back to what would have been her mother's freshman year of high school. Betty noticed, however, that it wasn't from Riverdale High School – it was from _South Side High_. That alone made Betty's stomach drop - why had her mother never mentioned she went to SSH?

The second thing she undoubtedly noticed was the poor grades; a scattering of C's and D's. One F (in Mathematics). The comments from the teachers were all similar in nature:

' _Alice shows real potential but no obedience.'_

' _Alice is frequently distracted and has a hard time concentrating.'_

' _Alice is very clever but defiant. It is not a question of whether she can_ _do the work, but whether she will_ _do the work. Recommend repeating the course with a peer tutor.'_

Betty went to unfold another report card when a photograph fell out, fluttering to her feet. Her breath hitched when she first saw the familiar faces staring back up at her from below: the spitting image of her and Jughead.

Only it wasn't.

It was her mom.

And it was FP.

Betty reached down and picked up the photo, studying it as though it were an ancient artifact. They must have been around 16 years old, sitting on the hood of a car at the Twilight Drive-In. They were nestled in close, FP's arm gripped tightly around her mother's waist. In turn, Alice had an arm draped over FP's shoulder, her other hand firmly gripping onto the collar of his jacket. It was a territorial kind of body language between the two – a kind that said ' _mine. All mine._ '

More than all that though, Betty couldn't stop staring at their smiles. They weren't huge or beaming, but more smoldering and devious. And above all else, _real_. More real than she'd ever seen either of them in their adult lives.

To Betty's surprise, _both_ of them were clad in black, leather jackets. Of course, she recognized FP's instantly as the same one handed down to Jughead - it somehow seemed less ominous on FP's back than his.

Alice's leather jacket was similarly cut, equally embellished. Betty could partially see the back from the angle Alice was sitting. She squinted to make out an intricately beaded and embroidered red rose. She flipped the photo over as though it were a book that would tell her the rest of the story. Instead, in handwriting she did not recognize, Betty read the words, "FP & Black Bette. Serpent King & his Queen."

 _Black Bette?_ Was that some kind of a gang nickname? Like _Grinder_ or _Tank_?

Betty closed her eyes and took in a sharp breath, feeling emotion she couldn't quite define begin to swell within her.

They were in love, once - how had she never seen it before?

And just like Betty and Jughead, something had happened to end them.

Betty slid her fingers softly across the glossy photo, not quite sure whether to smile or cry from the beauty of it. It reminded her so much of her and Jughead, only in another lifetime.

This photo was enough proof to at least attempt to get some answers from Alice. How it would help her with Jughead, she wasn't quite sure. She extended her hand out to shut the box when something dark and slick caught her eye. Betty reached down, rummaging through the contents and pulled out a black, leather Serpent jacket - the one Alice was wearing in the photo.

Betty ran her hands over the back of the smooth, embroidered jacket, really appreciating the detailing in the red, shimmery rose, which she now saw had a snake wrapped around the thorny stem. She also saw the name etched across the back: _Black Bette_.

In a dazed stupor, she slipped her arms through the fringed sleeves of the jacket; she was hardly surprised at all when it fit her like a glove.

* * *

"You know, the whole point of being locked up is to be _deprived_ of everyday luxuries," Sheriff Keller told Jughead from the doorway of his office. He sauntered out, his arms crossed and his face less than amused. "I think you know visiting hours were over hours ago, kid."

Jughead clutched his to-go back from Pop's even tighter, "I'll be quick."

Keller rolled his eyes, "yeah, yeah. That's what all of you have said today."

Jughead went to reply with something witty, but instead froze. He raised one eyebrow questioningly, " _All_ of us?"

Keller didn't respond, just reached into his pocket for the keys to the cell hall, "c'mon. You're lucky I'm feeling generous today. But you only have ten minutes." He opened the door and slipped through, leading Jughead down to his dad's cell. Jughead wordlessly followed.

"Jones," Keller called out, causing FP to lift his head and look at them. "Tell your guests to come at visiting hours or your privileges are getting revoked. I _mean_ it," Keller said sternly before yelling back over his shoulder on his way out, "ten minutes. I mean it."

"You can't keep comin' around here," FP stated, as he slowly rolled off his bunk. He shook his head, but his hand greedily reached out through the bars for the scrunched up to-go bag. Jughead handed it to him, taking a seat on the stool Betty had left behind.

"You uh… you have a lot of visitors today, I'm guessing?" Jughead asked hesitantly, crossing his arms over his chest. He had a feeling he knew who came to visit, and that knowledge was sitting like a rock in his stomach.

"Not a _lot_ ," FP mumbled through a mouthful of cheeseburger. "What's it to you?" Jughead heaved a lazy shrug, and FP could tell Jughead had something he was there to tell him, but clearly didn't want to. FP smiled mischievously, a gleam in his eyes, "I bet you could guess who it was if you tried hard enough."

Jughead didn't respond right away, his face hardening. But at the same time, he wanted to know what Betty had been doing there visiting his dad. Nothing good, he supposed. Probably trying to get some kind of information on him.

"What did she want?" he finally asked, his voice small and his chest tight. It was still hard to talk about her. It was still hard to even think about her. Seeing her today was surreal. He and Grinder had slipped out the back to avoid seeing them, but it was a close call.

"You know she's never going to stop trying, right?"

Jughead's head fell back and he let out a breathy, humorless laugh. FP didn't have to tell him, he knew Betty well enough to know this was true.

"Ya don't say?" was his sarcastic response. "Well… she need to."

"I won't hesitate to keep reminding you that you have something good there, Juggie. You know, you don't _have_ to-"

"I met with Hiram Lodge today," Jughead blurted to change the subject. FP glowered at his son, throwing the half-eaten cheeseburger into his bag roughly. His hands wrapped around the bars, turning white almost instantly from how hard he was gripping them.

"Are you _nuts?_ What were you thinking?"

Jughead stood abruptly, the stool falling to the ground from the force, "I'm thinking I just got us enough money to pay off the Roaches and secure you a lawyer. What exactly have _you_ done to get yourself or me out of this mess?" he argued. He rubbed his mouth roughly with his hand, his other finding his hip. "You know, I have done everything to get this all resolved-"

"I didn't _ask_ you to!" FP yelled, his voice echoing around the nearly empty cell block.

"Yeah, well… I didn't ask to be put in this situation. But here we are. And I'm doing my best," Jughead said, hitting every consonant clearly. Jughead was going to leave, but his frustration was simmering a little too hotly to do so. "You know, how about a _thank you_?"

"A thank you? You just became indebted to a monster. Hiram owns you. Do you even know what that means?"

"At least The Roaches won't be after Betty. That's all that matters."

"Oh, you think Hiram Lodge won't come after Betty?" FP challenged, nodding when he saw his son's face fall at the idea. "Yeah. Because that's what he does. He comes after what you love the most, just to make sure you're always under his thumb. Even when you pay him back, you'll still belong to him."

"No," Jughead breathed, regret painting his features white. "No, Betty is Veronica's best friend. Hiram wouldn't-"

"Think again, champ. I spent _years_ doing things I didn't want to do, all with the looming threat of what he would do to _my_ family, to my livelihood," Jughead didn't want to listen, but he knew he had to face the reality of what he'd just done. He ran a bothered hand through his hair, tugging nervously. "You think I _wanted_ to disappear for days on end because Hiram needed something? You think I _wanted_ to keep getting arrested? How do you think I got out then? Hiram. He'd just put it on my never-ending tab."

Jughead had no idea that most of his family's problems were caused by Hiram using his father like a puppet all these years - no wonder FP was a drunk. It was probably the only way he knew to cope with all the pressure. FP stared Jughead right in they eyes, his gaze haunting.

"Hiram Lodge doesn't do _anything_ without a price. And now… he has _you_. Exactly where he wants you."

* * *

When Betty heard her mom pull into the driveway, she hid the jacket in her room, unable to bring herself to stuff it back in that old box.

After she was certain it was properly hidden, she slinked into the kitchen, calmly and confidently taking a seat on the barstool across from her mother. It was just past 7pm, and Alice was standing at the counter dicing veggies, getting prepared to start cooking dinner. Betty coolly rested her chin in her palm, watching as Alice slid the knife easily through the peppers in front of her.

"Yes? Can I help you, Elizabeth?" Alice asked absently, her eyes never leaving the cutting board on the counter in front of her.

"Just thought I'd come to see you. We never _talk_ anymore," Betty sighed wistfully. She watched as Alice hesitated for an instant before slowly continuing on to slice up the bright, red pepper.

"Should we talk about the fact I'm _still_ not happy about how you destroyed your beautiful hair?" she wondered. Betty tried in vain not to roll her eyes at her mother's melodramatic response.

"No, you were _plenty_ clear about that already..."

" _Okay_ ," Alice hummed. "What would you like to talk about?" Betty could almost see her mother's defensive walls rise, felt the tension in the room shift. It almost made her snicker deep in her throat.

"Oh, I don't know. Why don't you tell me something about… _you_?"

Alice sat the blade down with an audible thud, offering Betty a constricted smile, "what _about_ me?"

"What were you like in high school?" Betty ventured. "Were you _shy…_? Like Polly? Were you like _me_?" Alice's jawline tautened as she processed the question. It suddenly made sense to Betty as to why her mother was always so disinclined to answer questions right away; she was always trying to make sure her stories were straight.

"I would say neither," was her breathy, vacant reply.

"Were you… _defiant?"_ Betty asked, pulling the word right from the report card. Alice stared at Betty blankly for a moment before she snorted, shaking her head with another forced smile. She went back to chopping, although Betty noticed it was much louder and more aggressive than before.

" _Why_ do you want to know this all of a sudden-?"

"Why can't you answer the question?" Betty snapped, despite herself. She wasn't smiling now as she stared her mother down. She was tired of chasing her around for answers, tired of all of the secrets and lies. Hadn't she learned anything from Jason's death? And why was there even anything to hide? People had exes, people had pasts. Why was Alice so insistent on pretending like her past with FP – her past as a _Serpent_ \- didn't exist?

Alice's eyes leered back at Betty as she put the knife down again. She folded her arms over her chest, backpedaling casually, "I was just curious why you are asking me this, Betty- "

"Because you never tell us _anything_ about you. All I know about your life when you were in high school was that you were homecoming queen." She didn't even bother mentioning her secret brother out there in the world somewhere. She sighed, tired, but unwilling to give up. She heaved a shrug, "I just want to know where I come from." Betty's response was sincere. She knew her mother had many skeletons buried deep within her closet, but some of those secrets might help explain just why Betty did such crazy things.

And until she understood those things about herself, she would never know what she'd done to push Jughead away.

"I just don't have much to say," Alice replied ambiguously, once again trying to completely dismiss the conversation. Betty was reaching a boiling point.

"Don't have much to say, or don't have much you _want_ to say?" Betty challenged. She could see Alice's patience thinning, but _still_ , she would not back down.

" _Both_ ," Alice shot back along with a slight glower. "I'm not sure where this all is coming from, but I don't really _feel_ like answering your question right now, Elizabeth-"

"Then why don't you answer this one instead," Betty mused, standing up so fast she felt dizziness flood her head. She jutted out her chin bravely, refusing to be intimidated, "why did you visit FP today?"

Betty could swear she saw the color completely drain from Alice's face and actual fear flash in her eyes. In fact, she was almost certain she'd never seen Alice so caught off guard. The emotion that Betty had suppressed in the attic was beginning to manifest as she felt frustrated tears spring to her eyes.

" _Answer_ me," Betty demanded before Alice had enough time to come up with a logical excuse. "Because he already told me why. I want to hear it from _you_."

"It's not _really_ your business-"

"What _was_ he to you, mom?" Betty asked, rounding the counter to face her mom directly. More than anything else, she just wanted straight answers for once. " _Quit_ lying-"

"I'm not _lying_ ," Alice said defensively, her voice raising.

"Were you and FP…" _Lovers? Soulmates?_ Betty had _no_ idea how to finish that sentence. "...A _thing?"_

Alice scoffed, rolling her eyes, "you have _quite_ an imagination-"

Betty was done with the games.

Without another word, she pulled the photograph from her back pocket and slapped it on the counter, never taking her icy gaze from her mother's face. When Alice saw it she gasped, her hand quickly snapping over her mouth. Betty cocked her head to the side as tears flooded her eyes. Alice's own eyes grew teary too as she speechlessly stared at the incriminating evidence. Betty had no idea what was going through her mother's head most of the time, and this was no different.

"What _was_ he to you?" Betty repeated slowly.

"It was a long time ago-" Alice finally croaked when she found the words.

"Is this why you didn't want me with Jughead, mom?"

"No, no, sweetie. I _like_ Jughead-"

"Quit with the bullshit, mom!" Betty finally yelled, her fist coming down hard on the counter and causing Alice to startle. Betty's gaze darkened, "Did you _tell_ Jughead to break up with me?" Once the words left her mouth, Betty felt her heart crack. She hoped it wasn't true, _so_ badly. She wanted to believe her mother would never hurt her like that. But the look on her mother's face told her everything she needed to know.

"I just… I _told_ him that it was dangerous, the things he was getting into... And I didn't want him to drag you into it-"

"Oh my God," Betty exhaled, her hand finding her forehead, exasperatedly. She stepped away from Alice, needing as much distance from her as possible in that very moment - she was actually terrified by the thoughts that were running through her head, all the things she wanted to do to her mother.

Alice's hands reached out to her daughter, the tears real now, "Betty, I'm _sorry-_ " She tried to approach her, tried to comfort her, but Betty pushed her away.

"Please don't touch me," Betty hissed, her breath short.

"I thought it would make him choose _you_. I thought he just needed a push in the right direction-"

"Jughead doesn't work that way, mom! He doesn't do ultimatums!"

"I'm sorry, Betty. I should have told you, but I-"

"You knew! You sat on my bed with me while I beat myself up or cried myself to sleep. I kept asking over and over what I did wrong, and the fact was I didn't do anything wrong. _You_ did!"

"Betty-"

"I will _never_ forgive you for this," Betty told her carefully, "do you understand that? Jughead needs me and won't let me near him because _you_ got into his head."

"Betty, I was only trying to protect you," Alice cried, but Betty was unmoved by her mother's tears. They meant nothing to her, especially after all the tears she'd sat back and watched Betty cry.

"This is what you do, mom!" Betty yelled, angrily clearing everything from the counter in one quick swoop and listening to it crash down to the ground. "You _ruin lives_ so long as Alice Cooper gets what she wants. What, you couldn't _stand_ the idea of your daughter dating FP Jones' _son-?_ "

Before Alice could respond to everything, they were interrupted by the doorbell. Betty felt the blood begin to slowly drain from her face and her breathing slow. She'd been in such a rage she'd nearly blacked out. She shook the remaining fury away and slowly turned from her mother. She couldn't look at her anymore, anyway.

Betty's feet dragged her to the front door just as the doorbell rang again. She pulled the door open, expecting Veronica or a solicitor.

To her surprise, she immediately recognized the girl standing before her with wet, black hair and light eyes as Jellybean Jones. She'd met her a handful of times, babysat her once when they were younger. She'd come over a time or two with Jughead, growing up.

"Jelly… what are you doing here?" Betty asked, her eyes drinking in the girl's scared features with grave concern. She reached her arm out to comfort her, "Come in here, You're _soaking_ wet and it's freezing. _Where_ is your mom-"

"She's still in Toledo," Jelly's voice chimed back. Betty's eyes widened.

"You came here _alone?_ " she gasped. Jellybean nodded her head, her teeth chattering from the cold.

"What is going on here?" Alice asked, her face wiped from all signs of crying by now. All anger aside, Betty turned to her mom.

"She came here alone."

"Sweetie, does your mom know you're here?" Alice asked, bending down to meet her eyes. Jellybean shook her head.

"D-do you know where Jughead is? I can't find him."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	6. lonesome town

_ Sometimes if we veer off, the universe gently leads us back to the path we are supposed to be on - other times, it drags us, kicking and screaming. You can only avoid your destiny for so long before it comes creeping up on you, and everything has a way of coming full circle. It doesn't matter how much you plan your own life, when it comes to the ways of fate, we are powerless. _

_ This is not to say we do not get to play an active role in our own futures. We choose left or right. _

_ To leave the party early or stay late. _

_ To take that job or scholarship. _

_ The question is… do all those choices really change anything? Or lead us to the same destination? _

* * *

Jellybean sat shivering in the Cooper's living room. Betty came up behind her and wrapped her up in a blanket. She gingerly handed her a cup of tea.

"Careful, it's hot," Betty said softly as she sat beside her. She soothingly began rubbing Jellybean's back. The young girl had yet to tell them much of anything. All Betty knew was that Jellybean had managed to make it from Toledo to Riverdale in the last 8 hours, and she was only 10 years old. "How did you get here?"

"The bus..." Jellybean responded, her voice small.

"We should really call her mother-" Alice began first, standing from her spot on the sofa to fetch her cell phone off the credenza.

" _ No! _ " Jellybean shouted, her tea nearly spilling over the mug. Alice and Betty exchanged a quick look before Alice neared her, timidly.

"Why? Why don't you want us to call her, JB?"

Jellybean stared down at the hot, swirling water in her mug, shaking her head somberly.

"I just… I just  _ don't _ , okay?" she mumbled, her eyes unable to meet theirs. Betty couldn't help but notice how emotionally distant JB seemed - it was reminiscent of her brother. She wondered if it was a Jones trait, passed down from generation to generation, or if it was from their upbringing. Or maybe both.

Alice knelt down, trying to get Jellybean to look at her, "Are you sure? I'm sure she's  _ awfully _ worried about you…"

"Where's Jughead?" Jellybean asked them again impatiently, but her eyes fell straight to Betty. Betty's mouth fell open to answer her, but nothing would come out. Her shoulders drooped after she gave a small shrug.

"I don't really know," she admitted.

"I went to our old house but... he wasn't there." Betty thought about what FP had told her, about Jughead being in trouble. She wanted to tell Jellybean to stay away from the trailer for now, but decided against it. She didn't want to frighten her, and from what Betty could tell, the Serpents were doing everything they could to  _ protect _ Jughead. Regardless of that fact, it was still  _ no _ place for a ten-year-old to be.

"Why are you looking for Jug?" Betty asked her. Jellybean swallowed, her pouted lips turning down into a frown and her eyebrows low.

"I… I heard my mom say he was in trouble…"

"Is that why you're here? To try to  _ help? _ " Betty was discouraged that her phone call had clearly caused so much anguish for the poor girl - she must have been so worried. But Jellybean responded with a weak shrug before her eyes trailed back down to her tea.

" _ Sort _ of…"

"This is crazy. I really need to call her mom-" Alice began, but Betty shot her a glare.

" _ Wait, _ " she snapped. "She doesn't  _ want _ you to."

"Well, I  _ hardly  _ think a  _ child _ is the one who should be deciding that, Elizabeth," Alice huffed, picking up her cellphone. "Now, Jelly. What is your mother's number-"

"You can't call her!" Jellybean finally shouted, her eyes terrified and teary. Her mouth snapped shut, and Betty felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. Even Alice seemed to realize that something serious was happening if Jellybean was this adamant. Betty turned toward her, pushing some long, damp, black hair from the girl's face. She had a smattering of freckles strewn across her porcelain skin. She had her brother's eyes - It was almost distracting.

"Jelly, you're safe here. You can tell us what's going on," Betty promised, softly. "Are you okay?" After a brief moment, Jellybean slowly shook her head. "Is your  _ mom _ okay?" Another slow head shake.

"It's… it's my mom's boyfriend… he's really mean to us."

Betty's face was instantly hot, her throat running dry and her vision blurry. She wanted to clench her fists but knew better. She was so caught off guard by this news that she couldn't speak, and thankfully Alice sat down beside them.

"What do you mean?" Alice asked, her voice much more nurturing and motherly than before. When Jelly didn't answer right away, Alice asked even more sternly, "What do you  _ mean _ he's mean to you? Has he ever hurt you, Jellybean?" Betty's eyes reluctantly snapped to her mother. She suddenly saw a darkness in Alice's face she'd only seen once before - when she hurled a brick through the window at the Register.

"No," Jellybean spoke, meekly. "But… he hurts my mom, sometimes. And he yells a lot. And doesn't let us visit my grandma and grandpa, anymore."

"Do you guys  _ live _ with him?" Betty pressed. Jellybean nodded. No wonder the poor girl had run away. She wasn't trying to come  _ help _ Jughead… she was here to  _ get  _ help from Jughead.

"Please don't call her. I don't want him to know where I am," Jellybean burst into tears. "I need to find Juggie so he can go get my mom-"

"Shhh…" Alice comforted, wrapping the young girl up in her arms and gently rocking. "Shh, it's okay. You can stay here for now-"

Betty stood, immediately crossing the room to start collecting her things - her purse, her cell phone. She slipped her arms through the sleeves of her coat.

" _ Where _ are you going?" Alice asked. Betty used her hands to pull her long, golden hair from under the collar. She knelt down to lace up her boots.

"I'm going to find Jughead," she said simply, and she knew her mother knew better than to dare object. Betty walked back over to Jellybean, crouching in front of her to look her in the eyes. Her hand came up to rest on her round, soft cheek, "I am going to find your brother. You can stay here.  _ Nothing _ is going to happen to you, do you understand?" she told her with a confidence that she didn't even know she had.

"I can come too," JB offered, eager to help. Betty just smiled sweetly and shook her head.

"No. That's okay. You stay here." She looked at Alice as she said, "I won't be gone long."

"Come on, JB," Alice said, her voice more chipper. A trademark, fake Alice Cooper grin curved her lips. "Come help me in the kitchen." Betty watched as Alice whisked the girl away, and she knew Jellybean would be okay there with her mom.

She turned to leave, but as soon as her fingers wrapped around the handle of the front door, she paused. She turned and hurried upstairs to exchange her jean jacket for the leather jacket that used to belong to her mom. As she pulled it on in almost a trance-like stupor, she didn't  _ feel _ like Betty anymore:

She felt like  _ Black Bette _ .

* * *

It was already dark out when Jughead hopped out of his truck and into the parking lot of the Whyte Wyrm. He was about to walk in when he heard his name called out from afar, "Jughead!  _ Wait! _ "

Instinctively he turned around, but when he saw who was calling him, he wished he hadn't. There, storming up the sidewalk, was none other than Veronica and Archie. They looked like quite the pair, her in her purple petticoat with black fur-lining and he in his Riverdale High Letterman jacket.

Jughead's stomach sunk as his thoughts  _ immediately _ fell to Betty - Although he hated the way that was the first place his mind always took him.

_ Was something wrong? Was she okay? _

But the closer they got, the more ire he saw on Veronica's face - she wasn't sad or concerned. She looked  _ furious _ .

"A little past your guys' bedtime, isn't it?" Jughead asked, checking over his shoulder to make sure there weren't any Serpents on their way out to greet them. He wasn't ashamed or feeling the need to hide anything anymore; he just wanted to make sure that his old life and his new life meshed as  _ little _ as possible. "Can I help you?"

"Uh, I was hoping you can help  _ me _ ," Veronica snipped, her arms crossing over her chest. She tilted her head, her stare icy, "You mind telling me what you were doing at  _ my _ apartment today?" Jughead felt his eyes widen with guilt as they darted back and forth between Archie and Veronica's accusatory faces. He gulped, shaking his head.

"I, uh… I  _ don't- _ " he started, stammering when he couldn't think of what to say. He was too caught off guard to come up with a lie on the spot, nor did he have the time. Veronica rolled her eyes, stomping her foot impatiently.

" _ Don't, _ " she warned, pointing a plum-polished fingernail in his face. " _ Don't  _ bother lying to me. I  _ saw _ you!"

"What?  _ Where? _ "

"On our surveillance camera. You left right before me and Betty-" she stopped, correcting herself before she got too far off track, "right before  _ I _ got home from school. You and some big, dopey biker-dude. Now…  _ fess _ up. What were you guys doing at  _ my _ home with  _ my _ dad?"

Jughead looked to Archie, but his face was just as serious as Veronica's - he wasn't going to get any help from him. Not that he'd expected him to. He and Archie hadn't spoken since the night he and Betty broke up.

Veronica went on, her cheeks flushed, " _ my _ dad has no business talking to  _ s-some- _ " She gestured with her hand toward Jughead disgustedly, but then stopped, folding her lips before she said something she would regret. Jughead wondered why she even cared about offending him, at this point. She wasn't his biggest fan in the first place.

His eyes narrowed, his head lowering as he asked her, "some  _ what _ , Veronica? Some  _ thug?  _ Some  _ loser? _ ...A  _ Serpent? _ "

Veronica's mouth snapped shut and she gave a small shrug, shaking her head lightly, " _ you  _ said it. Not me."

Jughead straightened his beanie, then his jacket.

"If you're so  _ concerned _ , Veronica… why don't you ask your dad?"

"Because my parents are lying to me!" Veronica shouted, fighting off the tears in her dark eyes. "I figured if anyone still had some  _ integrity _ , it would be you…" When Jughead didn't respond to her pleas, her eyes darkened even more. "But I guess I should have known better. After what you did to  _ Betty _ , and all..."

"What happened between me and Betty has  _ nothing  _ to do with integrity, Veronica," Jughead seethed, "But given how you were raised, you probably wouldn't know any better."

Rage burned through her, and her hands snapped out to shove Jughead, angrily.

"Tell me what were you doing with my  _ dad! _ " Archie held her back before she could do any more damage, even though they both could see she  _ desperately  _ wanted to. "He  _ just  _ got home! You guys are going to ruin  _ everything- _ "

" _ We're _ going to ruin everything?!" Jughead laughed ironically, getting up close to Veronica's face. "What about  _ my _ dad, huh? What about  _ my  _ ruined life?"

"What  _ about _ your dad?" she spat back at him, yanking herself free of Archie's hands.

"Veronica-" Archie started warningly, but Veronica shut him up with a glare before setting her attention back to Jughead.

"FP did  _ bad  _ business with a  _ bad _ man and got himself locked up. That's  _ not _ my dad's fault,  _ Jughead- _ " He hated the way she said his name - like it was a curse word. Like his own name should offend him.

"No, but see, it is sort of  _ is _ your dad's fault.  _ Your _ dad ruined our lives  _ well _ before this. He kept my dad on a leash to do his bidding whenever he wanted it. Threatening his family, holding money over his head, blackmailing him. So, you see why I would think that your dad has a little bit of blame in the demise of my family?"

Veronica's face had fallen when Jughead was barely into his tirade. Now, she just stared back at him with those teary eyes and her face pale with regret.

"The Serpents aren't the bad guys, here, Veronica. Your  _ dad _ is."

Veronica looked like she might slap him, but he didn't care. She needed to hear it sooner or later. Instead of resorted to violence, she turned away from him, her black hair flipping around her shoulders as she stormed off. Archie began to follow her, but faltered behind.

"She just wants answers, Jug," he tried to explain, reasonably. Jughead shrugged at his former friend.

"Well… I think I just gave her one. It's not my fault that she didn't like it." Archie nodded, but his face remained unchanged as he told him, "I'll see you around."

Jughead wasn't sure if that was a promise or a threat, but he couldn't let it linger in his mind too long. He just hoped Veronica wouldn't sour the deal he'd made with Hiram. His father's freedom and Betty's safety depended on it.

* * *

Betty should have called Archie for a ride.

Should have called Veronica.

_ Anyone. _

But she had been in such a rush to get over to the Whyte Wyrm that she hadn't thought of it. Not until she noticed the same car creeping by for the  _ third _ time. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself, keeping her head down. She was grateful for the streetlights and the way the light was bouncing on the freshly-rained upon sidewalk, lighting up the world around her.

"Need a ride, blondie?" she heard someone holler out to her. The car had pulled up closer to the curb and she could see there were at least four rough-looking men inside. She didn't respond, she didn't want to encourage them. Her fists clenched and her nails cut into her palms as they continued to call out to her. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing they'd just go away.

As if they were answering her wish, she heard the car peel out. However, before she could exhale a sigh of relief, she watched as it curved up ahead in the middle of a crosswalk, cutting her off. Betty stopped walking as two of the guys jumped out, one sliding cooly across the hood to get to her.

"Now, don't you know it's  _ rude _ to ignore people, sweetheart?" The dark-haired one asked. He smiled at her, his mouth full of gold, metal teeth. She tried desperately to hide the terror she felt from her face. She noticed their matching roach emblems, one on the guy's vest and the other on the other guy's jacket. They were clearly gang members, but they weren't Serpents… they were something else.

Metalmouth reached forward to stroke her hair and Betty recoiled from his touch.

" _ Don't _ touch me," she snapped, only noticing now that the other guy had snaked behind her and now she was sandwiched between the two. She peered past them at the car as the two others stared back at her.

" _ Ohh _ , you're a  _ feisty _ one, huh?"

"What do you want?" Betty glowered.

"You're Jug's girl, right?" Betty froze, her heart skipping a beat.

Everything clicked into place when she remembered her conversation with FP. He'd said Jughead had gotten himself into some kind of trouble with some thugs, and there was no doubt in her mind that these guys were part of it.

But how did they know  _ her? _

"I'm  _ nobody's  _ girl, you misogynistic neanderthal," she spat at them, trying to shove her way past. The lighter haired one with a neck tattoo grabbed her arm, yanking her back and almost off her own feet. She struggled, wondering how on earth the cars passing by weren't even bothering to intervene. She wanted to scream, but the panic was keeping her from doing anything logical.

"Can you give Jughead a message for us?" Metalmouth asked as he neared her. She squirmed against other guy's grip that forcibly held her in place.

"I'm not doing  _ anything _ for you," Betty growled. She wanted to kick herself - why she was arguing with these men on a dark street late at night was beyond her. But fire was coursing through her body and she would rather them hurt her than  _ ever _ give in to them.

Metalmouth tsk'd, shaking his head as he pulled pocketknife from his jacket. He flicked the blade open, then brought it up to her cheek. He whistled, slowly grazing the cold metal against her skin, "We could  _ carve _ the message into your skin instead, if you prefer?"

"What the hell you boys think you're doing?" They heard a gruff voice yell out from a car, and Betty immediately recognized the man as Grinder, the Serpent she'd confronted about Jughead before they'd broken up. Seeing this as her chance, Betty shoved her entire body weight into the man behind her, catching him by surprise. When Metalmouth lunged toward her, she brought her knee up right into his groin, causing him to bear all of those metal teeth and bringing him to his knees, instantly.

" _ Get in! _ " Grinder yelled out to her, now standing outside of his driver's side door. Betty never hesitated, sprinting as fast as her legs would take her to his passenger side. She wanted to scream at Grinder to get back in the car and get her away from there, but she was too frazzled and out of breath.

"You touch her again and you're askin' for an all-out war, you sons of bitches," Grinder threatened. He lurched his huge body back into the driver's seat causing the car to bow under his weight, and stepped on the gas.

They'd driven a good few miles before Betty felt like her breathing and her heart rate had returned to normal. She appreciated that he hadn't tried to talk to her, because she was still shaken and last she knew, Grinder wasn't much better than those  _ other _ guys. At least… that's what she'd always assumed. Lately, it was becoming clearer and clearer that the Serpents were not at all as sinister as people believed.

She  _ knew _ that, too. She knew that when FP had been falsely accused of Jason's murder. She knew it so well, " _ Go To Hell, Serpent Slut" _ was painted on her locker. Why then, had she been so terrified of Jughead becoming one? Other than the clear danger these Roaches seemed to present, now.

"Where's your house," Grinder finally asked her, but Betty shook her head.

"I'm not going to my house," she told him with determination. "I'm going to the Whyte Wyrm."

Grinder grunted, "I was afraid you might say that." He glanced at her quickly, then back at the road, "Jug don't want you over there."

"I don't care what Jug wants or doesn't want," Betty found herself snapping before she could stop herself. Silence fell on them again before Betty timidly asked, "wh-who were those guys? What did they want from me?"

"Roaches. And I suppose they wanted to use you to send a message to us. For now, you shouldn't go walkin' around at night. "

"So I've noticed," Betty mumbled.

"Listen… I'll take you to the Wyrm. But you gotta promise me you ain't gonna try walkin' home, after. This town ain't as safe as it used to be."

Betty sighed and blew the loose strands of hair from her eyes, sinking back in her seat as they drove through yet another short silence. She couldn't help but ask about Jughead, the urge had become too strong.

"How has he been?" she found the courage to ask, even if her voice was small. The large man beside her didn't say anything at first, so she pressed onward, "I  _ know. _ I'm not supposed to care anymore. But I  _ do,  _ okay? And I think you're the only person he lets close to him, anymore. So I thought I'd ask..." She didn't want the words to sound so bitter leaving her lips, but it was impossible to mask it. She hated not knowing about anything going on in his life anymore, feeling like an outsider in regards to the person who had meant the most to her. It was as though they were strangers now.

"Why would you think you're not supposed to care anymore? He sure cares about  _ you _ . Probably more than himself. Or anything else for that matter." Betty was silenced by Grinder's frankness; she hadn't been expecting such an upfront answer. She swallowed roughly, her cheeks were warm.

"FP… he said Jug is in some kind of trouble. Is it with the Roaches?"

"You're askin' a lot of questions. What are you, a journalist?"

Betty shrugged, "kind of."

"Jug would have a fit if he knew I was talkin' to you about any of this."

"Well, he'd have a fit if he knew you were driving me to the Whyte Wyrm, too. So, you might as well just answer the question."

The man let out a smoker's cackle, shaking his head, "you're gutsy. I'll give you that. Jug's lucky to have someone who cares about him, still."

They rolled up to the Whyte Wyrm with Betty's question remaining unanswered. She clicked off her seatbelt and reached for the door handle, but stopped when she noticed Grinder remaining in his seat.

"Are you coming in?"

"I practically live in that dive. I'm gonna pass tonight."

"Thanks for the ride. And, you know… for scaring off those Roaches."

"Mmm-hmm…" he mumbled. Betty went to shut the passenger door when Grinder spoke up, "This ain't been easy on him." Betty froze at his words, unsure what to even say to that. "At least, no easier on him than it's been on  _ you _ . He has his reasons for doing things this way. If you keep pushing like this… well, I dunno." He chuckled again, his voice a low rumble, "Maybe you kids actually have a shot."

"Thanks." Betty gave him a tight-lipped smile, still unsure about the man who, in her mind, had caused so much strife in her life. But regardless of her mixed feelings, she appreciated what he had decided to share. At least she knew that she had meant something. She shut the car door and headed to the front door of the tavern.

She had to shake off the adrenaline from her run-in with the Roaches, even though the fear was still fresh in her mind. She couldn't stray from why she was really here:  _ Jellybean _ .

Betty held her head up tall as she yanked the door open to the Whyte Wyrm - she had to get in there before she lost her nerve. She was instantly greeted with the loud sounds of a lively bar, the blaring jukebox, and clinking glasses. She  _ refused _ to feel intimidated - she reminded herself that she was  _ not _ the same Betty she was the  _ last  _ time she was in here.

The leather jacket she was wearing felt like both a disguise and a part of her. In some ways, she'd never felt more comfortable in her own skin. Her pastel pink skirt and powder blue blouse was a glaring juxtaposition to the slick, cool leather. But for some reason, it worked. Betty had always been a mix of light and dark. This new look fit her like a glove.

Still, even with her newfound confidence, her heart thumped harder and harder in her chest as seconds passed. She began to come to the realization that she was going to face with Jughead for the first time in what felt like forever.

Had it really only been a few  _ weeks? _

She blinked away the involuntary tears that were already forming in her eyes at the mere thought of it.

' _ No,' _ she thought to herself. ' _ Pull it together, Betty.'  _ She forced her thoughts back to Jellybean, back to her mission. She was here because she  _ had _ to be, not because she was welcome. Not because she  _ wanted _ to be.

Betty swept the room, garnering various stares and a few whistles while she made her way around the bar, gawking at every leather jacket-wearing patron in the hopes that it was him. Her heart freefell to her stomach when the crowd parted like the Red Sea and she finally caught a glimpse of him. He was propped up against a wall, his fingers entangled nervously in his own hair as he talked to another Serpent - he looked completely engrossed in whatever serious business they were discussing.

Betty tugged on the sleeves of her own leather jacket, maneuvering through the crowded bar to inch up beside him. He didn't notice her at first, and she was taken aback by the sound of his laughter as she approached - it was a sound she hadn't heard in so long. She felt her ears burn and her palms ache. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to scream at him, ask him how he could  _ possibly _ be laughing when such awful things were happening - but she knew that was unfair.

She tentatively reached her hand up, about to tap him, when he turned his head. She saw his eyes catch a quick glance of her before he did a double-take.

Jughead's eyes rounded in shock, wondering if he was really seeing what he was seeing.

Because there was Betty (although not necessarily the Betty he remembered), standing right beside him in the flesh. When he turned his body toward her, his smiling face faded and the two just stared back at one another with wide, curious eyes: green and blue.

"Hi," he managed to choke out, all cracked and broken. He looked at her as if she were a ghost. In a way, she was. The Betty she was before was gone. Which meant she could not fall apart or into his arms the moment she saw him, no matter how badly she wanted to. So, instead, her grip on herself tightened. She was stronger, now.

"Hi…" She could barely hear her voice over the music and her own heartbeat. She prayed that he couldn't hear it, too. It would surely give her away. She stood up straighter, trying to at least appear more pulled together than she currently felt. He drank in the sight of her and she could see him swallow, his Adam's apple twitching.

"Betty… you  _ look... _ " his sentence tapered off.

_ Beautiful? Amazing?  _ A myriad of words ran through his head but he dared not say any of them. He pushed away his thoughts, which were clearly fixated on Betty's new look. She forgot how different she must look to him. He looked almost the same, but tired. Worn out. She wasn't sure what she had expected.

Her fingertips instinctively grazed her bangs, "Oh, right.  _ This? _ Yeah. Veronica got to me…" she replied, casually, as though they were old friends. Sometimes they forgot that at the heart of it all, they  _ were _ .

But her hair and rouged lips weren't the  _ only  _ things he was looking at - she watched his whole demeanor shift as his eyes locked onto the jacket. He wanted to ask her about it, but instead he just shook his head in disbelief. While at first he had been just as dazed and dizzied as she was, once the reality began to sink in she saw the change within him. His eyebrows pulled together, his mouth twisted downwards. He crossed his arms over his chest protectively, closing himself off.

"Wha-what are you doing here?" He almost hissed, his voice hitching on every syllable. He took her by the arm, leading her a few feet away from his group. He lowered his head as he told her, "You shouldn't-"

Betty tugged her arm free of his grip, "Yeah, yeah. I shouldn't be here. I know," Betty mocked with a roll of her eyes. She could see the Serpent she recognized as Tank hovering nearby, curiously eavesdropping on their conversation. She didn't let it deter her. "But what  _ else _ was I supposed to do, Jughead? Your phone is never on and I  _ need _ to talk to you-"

"Betty-" he began to object, his hand resting over his eyes, exasperatedly. He'd been clear that she needed to stay far away from him - away from  _ here _ . He wasn't sure why he was so surprised that she wasn't keeping that promise and that alone made him angry. But when he read the serious look on her face, he instantly knew this was something  _ beyond _ them.

"Believe it or not, me being here right now has  _ nothing _ to do with us. So you can relax." Jughead raised his eyebrows at her assertiveness - he'd only heard Betty speak this way a handful of times, and never to him directly. When he peered back at her and she could tell she'd piqued his interest, she told him, "Please. I need to talk to you. Preferably somewhere that I don't have to shout for you to hear me." Her eyes flitted over to Tank, who turned back toward the bar and took a gulp of his beer as though he hadn't been listening to them. " _ Without _ an audience."

He was still reluctant, but her stare grew cold, " _ Now. _ "

Jughead weighed his options, and nodded after a moment. She was already here and (although he would never admit it), he  _ wanted  _ to talk to her. See her. Touch her-

_ no _ .

He knew better,  _ damnit _ . He knew just like when he knew not to listen to her voicemail. But just as he'd always known, he would never be able to say no to her. He'd tried, and as he turned to lead her to the back room, he knew he'd failed.

"Donnie, I'm going in the back. Don't let anyone back there," Jughead called out to the bartender, who gave him a quick nod and went back to pouring beer.

"Use a rubber!" Sweetpea called out, his hyena-like cackle following right after. Jughead narrowed his eyes at the moron as Betty reddened and continued toward the back room.

" _ Nice _ . Always a gentleman, _ eh _ Sweetpea?" Jughead shot back over his shoulder on the way. "That's why you'll never get a chance to use one," he added, snidely. Jughead's hand hovered over her back, wanting to lead, her but he resisted. She had to remind herself not to grab ahold of his bicep while he simultaneously reminded himself not to take ahold of her hand.

They entered the dingy back room of the tavern. There was a single hanging light, a table with a few metal chairs. Some shelving and cleaning supplies. It reminded her of an interrogation room on one of those cop shows. She could still sense his hesitation as he closed the door behind them, muffling out the loudness from the pool hall.

She assumed he was probably under the impression she was there for some kind of post-mortem on their relationship. And although, yes, she would have loved to sit with him and talk about anything and everything that led to their demise - specifically the role her mother had played - that certainly wasn't why she was here.

Jughead leaned against the table, once again crossing his arms over his chest. He heaved a shrug that looked far too heavy for his shoulders, "so?"

Betty stared back at him for a long moment. His gaze was down on the ground, his body language strained and uncomfortable. It was like he didn't know how to act around her, anymore. She huffed out an unamused chuckle, disappointedly telling him, "you can't even look at me, can you?"

Slowly, Jughead's eyes raised from the cement floor to her glossy, sea-green eyes. Atlantic eyes. Waves of curiosity and brilliance and  _ kindness- _

_ No. _

_ This  _ was why he couldn't look at her. He knew she thought it was because he despised her or didn't love her but no. It was because when he saw her, everything he'd ever seen, felt, tasted… it all came flooding back. And he knew he wanted nothing more than to throw her on that rickety old table and ease both of their pain in the most carnal of ways and then apologize and promise her to never let her go again.

That was why he couldn't be alone with Betty. He was weak.

He tried to silence his mind as he watched her fidget with her hands. She was nervous, but he could tell she was trying to be brave. He also could make out the red lines in her palms, more pronounced than he'd  _ ever _ seen.

Betty initially hid her hands under her armpits the moment she saw Jughead's eyes fall to them - she didn't want him to see her fresh wounds.

But it was too late for that.

His jaw tightened and he stepped to her silently, his eyes searching her face before peering back down at her soft, warm hands. He couldn't stop himself before he carefully reached down and took them in his, turning her wrists over. She felt her skin prickle and her breath hitch at his touch. She slowly unclasped her fingers, revealing her most recent battle scars. She would never be able to hide that part of herself from him. Not after he so lovingly accepted it, before.

Jughead let out a long exhale, a small shake of his head, "you're still doing this?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Their eyes caught, their faces far too close for their own good. When she couldn't take the intensity of his gaze, her eyes trailed down to his mouth. Just a few inches closer, and she could kiss him. She  _ wanted _ to, maybe more than she ever had before.

Betty's hands closed and she slipped them from his, hiding them away in her pocket.

"Things have been hard lately," she quietly told him, her eyes shamefully unable to meet his anymore. "But they're getting better, okay? I'm okay."

"Betts-" he began, but she cleared her throat.

"Jughead, I'm about to tell you something, and you need to promise me you're going to stay calm, okay?" she told him, cautiously. She watched his eyes narrow and his head tilt ever so slightly; she imagined a million things were running through his head at that very moment. She regretted starting it off that way.

"What? What is it? Did somebody hurt you-"

"It's Jellybean," she spat out. Jughead's face simultaneously fell and went white.

"What  _ about _ Jellybean?" She could see his breathing become shallow, saw the terror in his eyes at the mention of the most precious thing in his life.

"It's okay, she's okay," Betty told him quickly and watched him breathe a sigh of relief. "But… she showed up at my house tonight."

"What? Why?"

"She was worried about you-"

"Why would she be worried about me?"

Betty went to answer but knew immediately that she'd just talked herself into a corner. She didn't want to lie to him, but there was no way of answering that question without telling Jughead that she'd spoken to Gladys. Why hadn't she thought this through?

"Betty," Jughead said, taking a step toward her to bring her attention back to the question. "Why would Jellybean be worried about  _ me? _ "

"Because… you don't ever answer your phone and no one knows what's going on with you…" she began to list, but he knew there was something more. She couldn't fight the guilt, so she quietly added, "and… because I  _ might _ have called your mom-"

Jughead's face fell, "You called my mom?"

"Jug-" her hand reached out to him as it always used to, but he moved away from her before she could touch him.

" _ Why? _ Why would you do that?" He was fuming, and Betty wasn't sure why she'd thought he would take that information lightly.

She glared back at him, defensively, "Your dad said you were in trouble, I didn't have much of a choice!"

"I can't believe you would do that, that you would  _ worry _ her like that-"

"Oh,  _ please _ . To be honest, she didn't seem all that concerned-" Betty blurted, and then her hand snapped over her mouth to shut herself up. She didn't mean it, she didn't mean to say it. And worse… she could see the hurt on his face the moment she did.

Her hand lowered from her mouth, "I'm sorry. I just meant… Jelly overheard the conversation and wanted to come find you."

Jughead clenched his jaw, his arms folding over his chest, "Where is my sister, now? I need to take her back to Toledo-"

"That's the thing Jug. You can't. That's what I am trying to tell you."

His anger slowly made way for more confusion, "Why not?"

She took another step toward him, "listen… I'm sorry I called your mom, I had  _ no  _ right to do that-" He looked away from her, so she forced his gaze back to her with her own hands. He was surprised by her touch, and she had surprised herself. But what she was about to tell him wasn't going to be easy. "But it's a good thing I did, Jug."

"And why is that?"

"JB said that your mom has a boyfriend. They're living with him-"

"What? No. No, I thought they were at my grandparent's house."

"Not anymore. JB said they are living with your mom's boyfriend. And Jug… I think he'd been hurting them."

"Wh-what do you mean?" his voice cracked.

But he knew.

He knew exactly what that meant. He knew there must have been some reason why his mom wouldn't let him come out to Toledo, he knew there must have been more to the story, but he was too busy feeling sorry for himself that he hadn't asked -  _ why hadn't he asked? _

He broke free of Betty's hands and crossed the room, beginning to slowly pace. Betty went on, "she said that he hurts your mom. That he yells a lot and won't let them see your grandparents anymore. She… she wants you to go with her to get your mom  _ out _ of that house."

Everything else ceased to exist with this news. The Serpents, the Roaches, Hiram... Even his complicated feelings about Betty. He had to put that all aside and go to his sister, go to his mom.

"I'll go talk to Grinder. Maybe I can get some of the guys to go with me, we can head out tomorrow and-"

"I think… for tonight? Jellybean needs her brother, Jughead," Betty told him, wrapping her arms around herself and squeezing tightly. Her eyes wanted to tear again, her throat felt raw, especially looking at Jughead's hopeless expression. She hated that she was the one there, delivering this kind of news. She couldn't imagine trying to tell him about the Roaches, too.

Jughead nodded somberly after he thought for a few moments.

"Okay. Yeah. You're right."

"She's at my house, let's go see her."

The two made their way from the back room out to the parking lot. Without thinking, and possibly out of habit, Jughead pulled open Betty's door. She eyed him carefully as she climbed in, and he just hoped she hadn't read too far into the gesture. It was bad enough being alone with her in the Wyrm. Being alone with her in the truck would prove to be just as difficult.

Jughead was about to open his own driver's side door when a dark blue car rolled by slowly. He squinted to see, only to recognize the man leering out the window at them as the Roach who'd threatened him - threatened Betty. He glared back, hopping into the cab of the truck.

Betty had seen them too, her stomach in knots as she once again wondered if she should tell him. She decided that now wasn't the time.

"Hey Blondie!" The creep shouted out at them as Jughead shut his door.

"Ignore them," he ordered, and Betty didn't say a word.

In fact, she didn't say a word for most of the way home. She didn't know what to say, and she knew he didn't either. How had things gone so wrong? This wasn't the way things were supposed to be. There was a time that Jughead wanted to be with her more than anything in the world, and she'd been so blind to it.

"Do you remember this summer? When you came to visit me?" Betty asked, her voice cutting through the deafening silence between the two.

The memory made the corners of his lips pull, despite himself. He wanted to smile, but he was terrified to do so. He didn't feel he deserved to smile, not after everything he'd done to the beautiful girl sitting next to him. He never understood how things could feel so simultaneously effortless and impossible with Betty, even now.

_ Especially _ now.

He snuck a quick glance at her. She was hugging onto her knees that were pulled up to her chest. Her skirt was riding up, flashing her upper thigh, even if it was covered by her sheer tights. She looked like she was trying to take up as little amount of space as possible - like she thought she might be encroaching on his territory.

His hands tightened around the steering wheel to keep from reaching out to her. His fingers had memorized the way her skin felt and he wanted to touch her.

Betty leaned her head against the cool glass on the passenger side window, staring wistfully out the window as the world whipped by around them, "I was  _ so _ surprised… you drove so far."

She was talking about back in July. And of  _ course  _ he remembered. Every moment between him and betty had been burned into his brain, permanently.

After Betty had left for her internship, things just gradually got worse and worse for Jughead. Gladys and Jelly were gone, the news set FP on a bender. He never saw his father much at that time, and  _ certainly  _ never sober. It got to the point where after the Twilight Drive-In closed one night, he just didn't go home. It had become painfully clear that he didn't  _ have  _ one anymore. So he collected the only important things he owned and brought them into the projection booth where he set up a cot. Marv, the owner of the Twilight Drive-In hardly cared, just told him not to trash the place.

Living alone at the Drive-In was freeing, but it was lonely that summer. Archie was distant and distracted, Betty was all the way in another state… he'd  _ never _ felt more alone.

"I need to get away," he'd confessed to Archie the  _ one _ time he actually got him alone. They met for dinner at Pop's, but Archie seemed to only partially be listening. His attention was scattered as he checked his phone over and over. Jughead would normally call someone out for such rude behavior, but he didn't want to push it. He was sadly aware that Archie was the only person he had left, right now.

"What are you doing for the 4th of July next week?" Jughead pressed. Archie's dark eyes flickered to Jughead's face, finally seeming to focus.

"Oh, uh. I dunno. I haven't decided yet," he replied vaguely, picking at his cheeseburger. The non-plans sparked hope in Jughead - hope that he could get out of this town and clear his head a bit.

"Maybe we could go on a road trip or something. Go to New York?"

"Sure. Sounds fun, I'll talk to my dad." Jughead ignored the feeling that Archie was merely patronizing him, but a half-commitment was still better than a straight up ' _ no'. _ They made half-hearted plans to meet on the 3rd and drive through the night, getting to the city in the morning.

But when the time came, Archie was nowhere to be found.

He wasn't going to chase him down; Jughead knew better than to try to force people to stay in his life when they clearly didn't care about him. Jughead watched from the booth at Pop's as customer after customer came in, chiming that damn bell, but it was never Archie.

_ I'll give him one more minute _ , he thought, his hands tightening around his mug of coffee.

Three minutes passed before Jughead tipped the mug back, drinking down the lukewarm sludge, and grabbing the keys to his dad's truck. He shot off a quick text to Archie:

 

 ** _Jughead: [8:57 PM]:_** _Glad to see where we stand, pal._

 

Then, he jumped in the truck and decided he was going on a road trip regardless, with or  _ without  _ his fairweather friend. He drove all through the night, but instead of heading to the city, he just kept going. Southbound, his mind loudly buzzing. He'd spoken to Betty the week before - she wasn't planning on coming home for the holiday.

He knew she'd be there.

He kicked himself for not calling her ahead of time. Showing up like this was rude. What if she had plans? What if she didn't want him tagging along? There was only one thing he was sure of: seeing her would make the weight of the world just a little easier for him to bear. If he saw her and she seemed burdened by him, he'd leave. Tell her he was just passing through.

It was barely after midnight when he arrived.

She was staying in the dorms, but he didn't know which ones. On a whim, he navigated the giant campus just hoping security mistook him for a student. Then, he remembered what  _ phones  _ were used for.

 

 ** _Jughead: [12:16 AM]:_** _Betts. You still up?_

 

He paced on the campus lawn, back and forth, back and forth. He must have looked like an insane person. He sure felt like one. He nearly threw the phone when it vibrated in his hand.

 

 ** _Betts: [12:17 AM]:_** _Sure am. Late night writing sesh. I am literally shaking from the caffeine lol_

 

Jughead called her instead and, unsurprisingly, she picked up right away.

"Mr. Jones the third, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He pulled off his beanie, suddenly feeling clammy and sweaty.

"Hey… um. I know this is gonna sound crazy but… I'm here." There was a long pause on the other end, and Jughead was already regretting this decision.

"...You're  _ where? _ "

"New Jersey," he said, sheepishly tacking onto the end, " _ Prince _ ton…"

He felt like a moron. He should have called, he should have asked. What was he thinking, just showing up like this-?

"Are you serious?" Betty said through a giggle. He heard some rustling and imagined she was getting off of her twin bed, looking out her window through the drapes, just to see if she could spot him. " _ Where  _ on are you?"

"Um…" Jughead studied the area around him, catching a big "C" on the side of the tan, brick building in front of him. "Building C? Does that ring any bells?"

"I'm in Building D. Hold on, I'm putting on my shoes. I'll be right out."

Jughead hung up and strolled over a few yards away to Building D, sitting down and waiting on the stoop for Betty to come out. After a few moments, he turned to look over his shoulder and saw her emerge from behind the glass door, clutching her keycard. He swallowed hard even though his mouth went dry the moment he saw her; she was in a pair of night silk, pink shorts and a camisole, a pair of sneakers. She pulled a loose-fitting, robe-like shall on, her smile positively beaming back at him. Her hair was up as usual, but it was loose and sloppy - that was rare.

He stood, kicking the ground with his boot and shoving his hands in his pockets, " _ hey _ ." He hoped his eyes didn't appear as wide as the felt as he watched her float down the cement stairs toward him.

"Hey yourself," she giggled. "What are you  _ doing _ here?" Betty neared him and wrapped him up in her arms in a hug, and he tried not to notice how thin the fabric of her nightclothes was or the way she smelled like peaches or what it felt like having her body pressed up against his - as if she didn't know what she did to the boys around her.

But something about Betty made him wonder if she really  _ didn't _ know. She didn't seem all that interested in boys. Just  _ one  _ (annoyingly undeserving) boy.

She pulled away from him and Jughead settled on telling her, "Just… thought I should come see my good friend, Betty Cooper is all."

" _ Wha-? _ " she chuckled out, shaking her head. Her eyebrows creased and she laughed, but he could see the confusion on her face. He must have looked melancholy because her smile faded as she searched his face for answers.

"Jug… is everything okay?"

He'd never met anyone who could always read him like a book. She knew just by his face that he wasn't okay. But just as always, he didn't want to tell her that. Not about his mom or his dad or where he'd been living... What would she think?

Her hand came up to comfortingly rest on his cheek and for some reason, it angered him - shouldn't she know better than to touch him like that if she was never going to let him love her? Why didn't he just drive to Toledo to see his mom and Jelly?

Jughead moved away from her soft touch, sitting back down on the stoop. Betty followed suit, timidly resting beside him. Their shoulders were almost touching.

"Juggie… talk to me," she said quietly. He wanted to smile, to put on a brave face. But he was just so  _ damn  _ tired of pretending.

"I'm fine, Betty. Just needed to get away for a little while."

"So you came to see me," she said flatly, arching one perfect eyebrow. She patted him on back, "Gotta say, Jug. You couldn't have picked a more  _ boring _ person to visit." Jughead stared down at his fidgeting hands, a small smirk curving his lips. She leaned down, putting her face right in his line of vision. She smiled again, brilliant and beaming. "But I'm so glad you did."

They sat out in the summer night air, listening to the crickets and the soft breeze, reminiscing about their childhood and laughing and at some point he remembered  _ why _ he was here. Everything else, all the big stuff and all the white noise… it all ceased to exist whenever he was around Betty Cooper.

Before they knew it, they were surrounded by the faint, blue-hue of the breaking of day.

"C'mon," Betty said, her laughter infectious, and he couldn't tell if she was delirious from the lack of sleep or what. But she grabbed him by the hand and led him through the dorm hallways, up the stairs. He was winded after only about two floors, but it was all worth it when she opened the heavy, brown maintenance door and they stepped out onto the roof.

Betty was beautiful in  _ most  _ lighting… but  _ nothing _ compared to the way she looked, even without sleep, bathed in that warm, yellow light of the sunrise. She stood near the edge of the roof, spreading her arms out wide, soaking in the sun like a lizard on a rock in the desert. He just watched her in wonder, thinking about what it must be like to feel things as vibrantly and beautifully as she did.

Her arms dropped and he admired her even more, backlit by the pink and orange and yellow unfolding sky. They sat on the edge of the roof, their feet dangling down, far above the ground as they watched the sun inch it's way up higher and higher. The world was still.

_ Quiet. _

_ Awakening. _

As if they were the only two people in the world. It would have been romantic if she even remotely saw him that way. They talked about everything they could think of, and Jughead wondered if she secretly wanted this moment to last as long as he did.

Forever?

She asked him what his favorite movie was.

"Rebel Without A Cause," he told her. He wasn't even sure why that's the first thing that came out of his mouth - he hadn't seen it in so long. Maybe it was the way Betty reminded him of Natalie Wood in this moment, her features soft and delicate as always. Maybe a little part of him wanted to be the  _ James Dean _ for once, not the sidekick.

He tried to explain it to her in a more vague, worldly way, "That movie just basically showcased every adolescent's greatest fears at the time. Things that don't even pertain to us today… and a lot that still does. I mean… think about every time a teenager thought their world was ending, and it ended up being fine."

Her eyes focused solely on him, her smile as she listened and actually drank in the words he was saying… Jughead had almost lost his train of thought. He could see her wheels turning, see her processing. It was fascinating and terrifying, all at once.

He licked his lips. He wanted to kiss her. His fingers twitched, begging to press against her cheeks, take her face in his hands. He wanted to know everything about her all at once; everything she'd ever thought, felt, tasted. All of it. He knew he'd felt that way for some time… but never this pure. Never this strong.

The words ' _ I love you' _ danced on the tip of his tongue. He didn't know why he wanted to say it so badly, but there was a feeling expanding in his chest every time he looked at her in the glow of the sunrise.

"I guess something about that movie always reminds me that… no matter how hard or chaotic or rough things get… everything ends up turning out okay."

She smiled even bigger.

And he smiled.

Because maybe, just  _ maybe _ , everything  _ was _ going to be okay. And maybe he should just be brave and lean forward and stave off the curiosity that was always eating away at him: find out what her lips felt like pressed against his.

He was tired of wondering. He began to lean in.

"How's Archie doing?"

And just like that, it all came tumbling down. She wasn't really looking at him now, biting onto the soft, plush skin of her bottom lip as if she'd been weighing the question in her mind for  _ God knows how long _ . While he was in this moment, thinking about her, she'd been thinking about Archie. Jughead felt his entire body language change. His shoulders slumped, he turned slightly away from her.

"He's Archie," he replied, curtly.

She laughed, somewhat nervously, and he knew it was because she didn't know how to ask him to elaborate, but she wanted to hear more. He didn't much feel like talking about him… for multiple reasons.

"He hasn't been really returning my calls," Betty told him. "Is he working a lot with his dad?"

Jug rolled a shoulder uncaringly, "Probably. I wouldn't really know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I  _ never _ see him. He's  _ never _ around, anymore. Has he even called you since you've been here?" Jughead asked, and Betty stammered to give him an answer. "Exactly. He and I were even supposed to go on a road trip but he stood me up-" He stopped because he could feel and hear himself getting heated and he didn't want to. Not that it mattered. The moment was already ruined.

Betty's smile once again began to slowly dissipate, those wheels of hers still turning. Still processing.

" _ That's _ …. Why you're  _ here _ ," she deduced.

"I'm here to visit my friend, my  _ real _ friend." Jughead emphasized.

Betty pursed her lips together, sighing through her nose before she told him, "C'mon, Jug. You don't mean that. Archie's just as much your friend as  _ I _ am-"

"What do you even  _ see _ in him?" Jughead finally snapped. "Why are you defending him? He's strung you along for forever. H-he's selfish. He's aloof and  _ disloyal- _ " he listed each reason on a finger before Betty reached over and lowered his hand.

" _ Okay _ , Jug-" she tried to stop him, but he couldn't shut himself up. He was too frustrated with everything and  _ everyone _ .

Especially Archie.

" _ No, _ Betty. All I've done is sit around and watch him  _ continuously _ treat you like garbage. And you  _ let _ him! Why do you let him?" His voice softened when he saw the hurt in her eyes. He wasn't trying to be harsh… he just wanted her to see  _ him _ the way she saw Archie. Because he would never treat her like that if he ever got the chance. "Why can't you see that you deserve better than that?"

" _ Jug… _ " Betty breathed, and he could tell she didn't want to talk about it anymore. "I'm starting to get tired."

She offered to let him sleep in her dorm, but despite their (mostly) amazing night, he didn't think he could stand to be around Betty after that. So he gave her a hug, told her he'd call her (he didn't), and made the long drive back to Riverdale.

They'd shot each other a quick text here or there, but after that night, he didn't see her again until summer was over and the new school year started. He'd been too embarrassed about blowing up on her. And, if he had been honest… it was too hard to be around her after that.

He didn't need friends. He was a loner. That's the way it always had been, and maybe that was the way he preferred it.

"Why did you come out to visit me that night?" Betty asked from the passenger seat now, still staring out the window as they drove the familiar route home. Jughead was still flustered from before, and certainly wanted to keep his conversation with Betty to a minimum. The last thing either of them needed was for the lines they'd drawn to become blurred. He cleared his throat, watching the road ahead to keep from looking at her.

He  _ wanted _ to look at her.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," he answered emotionlessly, but it was only a half-truth. While he didn't want to do anything to lead Betty on, he also didn't want to rub salt in the wounds, either. "I didn't have anywhere else I  _ wanted _ to go," he clarified. "It was familiar. Kinda like going home."

Betty's eyes were heavy as she leaned her head back on the seat, "yeah," she sighed. "I know the feeling."

They pulled up to the Cooper's house, and Betty let them inside. When they stepped in, the first thing they saw was Jellybean sitting on the ground in front of Polly as she calmly braided her long, black hair.

"Juggie!" she squealed, hopping to her feet in a flash. Jughead was nearly tackled by his sister as she gripped onto him for dear life. He indulged her for a moment, needing the embrace just as much as she did. There wasn't much on this earth Jughead loved as much as he loved his little sister. However, he was still livid that she'd run away from home.

He pulled her away and kept her an arms distance. He leaned down, "what were you thinking? How did you even get here?"

"The bus," she replied quietly, her eyes teary. "I'm sorry Juggie-"

"Don't ever do something like that again. Do you know what could have happened to you?" He pulled her in for another hug and she apologized again. His eyes flickered between Betty, Alice, and Polly before he broke the hug again. "C'mon, JB. Get your stuff-"

Betty watched them in shocked confusion, wanting to stop them, but Alice had beat her to it.

"Um, and where do you think you're going?" Alice's voice stopped Jughead on his way out. He turned slowly to see the whole room staring back at him.

"I'm... taking my sister home?" he tried to explain, but it was really more of a question. Alice was already crossing the room to usher the young girl back over to her.

"I don't think so-"

" _ Excuse  _ me?" Jughead challenged. Alice's hands shot to her hips.

"You are a minor, she is a minor, you are  _ supposed _ to be in foster care. No. You're not taking her anywhere. And as I said earlier, I need to call Gladys because she is  _ probably _ worried sick about Jelly-"

"Mom. You  _ can't _ call her," Betty said, nearing her mom and trying to get her to back down. "If she is living with someone who is abusive, we have no idea what calling over there could possibly cause for her. We  _ need  _ to call a social worker-"

Jughead scoffed, "right and get Jelly thrown into foster care, too?  _ Mmm… _ thanks, but no thanks-"

"Then we need to at least call the police, let them handle it-" Betty tried.

"We aren't calling  _ anyone! _ " Jughead argued back.

"Enough!" Alice finally shouted, shutting everyone up. "None of you are the adults here. You don't  _ get _ to decide. No one is leaving this house tonight." Her eyes locked on to Jughead's face. " _ No  _ one. Everyone will sleep here and we will decide what we are going to do about this in the morning, have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, mom," Betty muttered.

Jughead knew better than to argue with Alice, especially when he knew she had the power to tear his family the rest of the way apart. He knew if he didn't comply, she'd be on the phone to Sheriff Keller so fast it would make his head spin.

"Polly. Make up the guest room for Jellybean," Alice instructed, her gaze never leaving Jughead's face. "Jughead, we have a spare cot in the office. You can sleep there. We will discuss everything in the morning."

With Alice laying down the law, everyone quietly began to retreat to their posts until dawn.

* * *

Jughead stared at the ceiling with wide, tired eyes. He was under the same roof as Betty Cooper, once again. A mere six hours ago, he wasn't sure if he'd ever see her again. And now, he'd backtracked. All of his feelings, everything he'd tried to push away, was still right there waiting for him when he closed his eyes.

But he couldn't close his eyes.

Because he knew he should be focusing on what he was going to do about his mom, about Jelly. But selfishly, his mind always led him right back to Betty.

Jughead kicked off his covers, the room suddenly feeling far too hot for his comfort. He wondered if she was awake, what she was thinking about. More than anything else, he felt guilty. He felt bad for getting so angry with her, back at the Wyrm. He knew she only called his mom because she was worried about him. It didn't matter that he'd broken up with her and kept his distance… she was never going to completely let him go.

He'd never known that feeling, before.

Even tonight. She could have called the police or social services, but instead she came to him. She was always looking out for him, and he didn't deserve it.

One thing was sure, he was never going to sleep until he apologized to her.

He crept from the french doors of the office and up the creaky stairs, guiding himself down the long hallway to the familiar sight of her bedroom door. He was going to knock, his hand up, but he lost his nerve. What if he woke her up? He couldn't just walk in, that wouldn't be appropriate.

He raked his fingers nervously up his face and then through his hair.

This was dumb. He shouldn't be there.

The choice was taken from him when she opened the door, jumping back immediately when she saw Jughead standing there, his arm up as though he were about to knock.

"Jesus, you scared the hell out of me!" Betty gasped, her hand falling over her racing heart.

"Sorry, sorry-" Jughead whispered back harshly, the two of them fumbling in the hallway as they tried not to wake up the entire house.

" _ What _ are you doing?"

"I just wanted to… tell you something." He swallowed, and Betty hadn't seen him look at her this way, so torn in two, since the day he was brave enough to kiss her.

"Well… tell me in here," she said, opening her door more to let Jughead in. He hesitated, and she knew he was unsure if being alone with her was the best idea. She was having the same conflicting thoughts, herself. Still, he quietly slipped through the door, carefully latching it shut behind him.

Betty sat at the end of her bed, pulling a pillow onto her lap, "what is it?" she asked him. Jughead stood still near the door, afraid to come in any further.

"I just… I wanted to thank you for coming to me instead of going to the cops."

"It never even crossed my mind," she told him, picking at the fraying seam of her pillow. "I knew you needed to know."

"And also," he croaked. He paused, cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for getting mad at you earlier. You were just trying to help." Betty gave him a weak, appreciative smile, but it faded. It was hard to smile around him. What was there to be happy about? Jughead gave a brief nod, figuring he'd come there and said what he needed to say, and should leave before it got too hard to leave.

He turned, but her voice beckoned him back, "you had Chuck beat up… didn't you?" She watched as his back tensed, then loosened. He slowly turned around, his features showcased in the silvery moonlight.

"No comment," he replied with a bit of a smirk.

"Thought so…" she whispered to herself. Jughead's face sobered.

"Goodnight, Betty Cooper."

There was a certain ache in her heart when she heard him say her name.

"Goodnight, Jughead Jones the third."

* * *

_ To Be Continued… _

  
  



	7. bus ride to nowhere

* * *

_ The heart wants what it wants. _

_ A cliché coined by many artists and poets over the years to express that although our minds might know what is best for us, our hearts will always try to lead us – even if it’s leading us down a path to destruction. _

_ Do we heed the heart’s call? While our brains are wired to ward us away from danger, it’s our hearts that always tend to catapult us right into the thick of it. _

_ But sometimes, no matter how hard we try to avoid it, we can’t stop ourselves from blindly going where we know we shouldn’t. _

* * *

Betty yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she descended the stairs to her kitchen. She’d heard the clinking and clanging sounds of her mother whipping up some food all the way from her bedroom. However, the very last thing she expected to see when she came down was everyone sitting together at the dining room table like a strange, Norman Rockwell painting.

“Morning, Sleepy-head,” Alice chirped, swooping in from the kitchen with a plate of crisp, golden waffles. “Glad to see you could finally join us.” Betty’s eyes landed on each of them, one at a time: Hal was obscured beneath his newspaper, seemingly oblivious to their house guests. Polly was trying to reach her food over her swollen belly while JB was tearing into (what was left) of her waffles in a typical Jones fashion.

And then... there was Jug.

He was slinked back in his chair, still stewing behind his mug of black coffee. He appeared as though he’d gone home to change and then came back at some point that morning.

At least he’d come back at all.

“Don’t just stand there, gawking. Have a seat. Join us,” Alice snipped. She gestured toward the only vacant chair, right across from Jughead.

Of course.

Betty did as she was told, cautiously. She wasn’t in the mood for a big, phony family meal. Especially one with her ex-boyfriend that she was still madly in love with. Alice plopped a plate of waffles down in front of Betty. She just cocked an eyebrow and stared at it - she wasn’t hungry. She glanced up at Jughead, who was still sitting silently in his chair - the quiet observer.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Betty muttered to him, surprised to see no food in front of him.

“I already had two plates. I think I’m good.” He mumbled his reply without even looking at her. Before Betty could say any more, Alice clapped her hands together.

“So!” Alice began, staring down the long table. “Now that we’ve all slept on it… I think it’s time we discuss our plan of action. Jughead, who is your mom’s boyfriend? Have you ever met him be-”

“Can we not... do this in front of JB?” Jughead snapped suddenly, shutting Alice right up. “I think she got enough of an earful last night.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore, Juggie,” Jelly griped from her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, sulkily.

Alice seemed surprised for a moment before sitting up straighter in her seat and clearing her throat. She eyed Jellybean’s now-empty plate before her gaze moved to her eldest daughter, “Pauline, would you mind taking Jellybean to the living room so we can discuss this in private?”

“Sure mom,” Polly said. They all watched as she struggling to get up from her chair. She extended her hand out toward JB, who gave everyone a long, leering look before stomping past her and out of the room, Polly following behind her. Once she was out of earshot, Jughead leaned forward on his elbows – down to business.

“I just need a couple days,” Jughead said softly, his teeth barely parting. His eyes gradually and then finally arose to Betty’s face. “Before you guys call social services or Sheriff Keller, I need to get out there to talk with my mom-”

“Listen. Jughead,” Alice cut in abruptly, raising her hand to halt him. She shook her perfectly coiffed head and Betty tried not to roll her eyes. “I understand you feel the need to throw on your cape and head to Toledo, but Gladys is an adult-”

“Mom, would you just listen to him?” Betty finally bit at her, slamming her hand down on the table. When Alice looked offended by her daughter's outburst, Betty’s stare only grew even more intense. She was far from over the events that had taken place the night before, and she had no patience for Alice’s power trip. Alice’s jaw tightened shut as she leaned back in her own chair, grudgingly awaiting Jughead’s explanation.

He shook it off and went on. Betty could see the torment and confusion on his face as he said, “The mother I knew never would have turned me away when I tried to come see her and JB in Toledo. The mother I knew wouldn’t have let me rot in foster care. I should have known something was wrong.”

“Didn’t your mother leave you behind with your troubled, unreliable father in the first place?” Alice made sure to point out. Betty scowled at her again.

“ _Mom_ ,” she hissed - a _warning_.

“Jughead,” Alice began, more delicately. Her eyes flickered to Betty then back, and without permission, she said, “I’ve known Gladys for a really long time. Your mother… she has some problems. She’s a little unstable-”

“Ha!” Betty snorted behind her orange juice, causing Alice to shoot a glare in her daughter’s direction. She gave a small shrug, “sorry just… kinda the pot calling the kettle black there, don’t you think, mother?” Jughead tried not to laugh. These kinds of comments weren’t helping.

“Cool it, Betty,” Hal said halfheartedly from behind his newspaper before Jughead could.

Jughead continued to plead his case, “Mrs. C, you’ve seen the way this town works: JB is going to be chewed up and spit out by the foster care system. Meanwhile, what’s going to happen to my mom? I need to at least go check on her. All I am asking for is three days-”

“Three days of what, exactly? Me not calling the authorities to report that I am harboring a missing child?” Alice asked exasperatedly. She clawed her perfectly manicured fingernails through her perfectly styled hair. “Two missing children if I include you. Since when did this home become a haven for stray Jones children?”

“Can’t you hear what he’s asking you, mom?” Betty asked as calmly as she could muster. “He just wants a few days to get things straightened out-”

“That, and…” Jughead paused uncertainly, chewing on his words, “and JB needs a place to stay while I’m gone. She can’t come with me back to Toledo. It’s too dangerous. I need to know she’s somewhere safe.”

“You do realize what kind of position that puts me in, right? I’m fairly certain kidnapping charges?”

“Oh please, mom. Don’t be so dramatic,” Betty chuckled out a humorless laugh. Her face sobered and she looked her mother dead in the eyes as she told her, “you owe it to me. And him.”

It wasn’t a threat, but it very much felt like one as Betty stared her down. Alice swallowed, looking almost backed into a corner because she knew… deep down she knew… her daughter was right.

And if she ever wanted a chance to keep Betty in her life after all the secrets and the lies… she needed to agree to this.

“Fine,” She said curtly, accepting defeat. “Three days, Jughead. And if you don’t accomplish what you set out for, I call the authorities.”

Jughead stood, releasing a sigh as he told her, “fine. No pressure, right?”

“Three days,” Alice repeated, rubbing her forehead in exhaustion and possibly regret. She nodded her head toward the front door. “So, you’d better get going.”

Jughead nodded back at her, uttering out a quick thank you, and heading toward the living room. Betty watched from the entryway as Jughead hugged his sister, letting her know he’d be back. Her heart hurt as JB became emotional and begged to go with him - told him that she just got him back and now he was leaving. Jughead was so soft and careful with her, showed such love and patience. Betty had been so distraught for so long over him, she’d forgotten his heart and how sometimes he did things that were hard to protect the people he loved the most.

He was separating himself from JB, despite her tears and her protest, because he needed to protect her. Even though it was killing him in the process.

And he loved Betty like that, too.

Deep down inside, she had always known that.

Jughead neared Betty now, his voice cracking as he told her goodbye. She couldn’t read what his eyes were trying to tell her – but there was something there. He looked like he wanted to hug her, but he resisted, and it made her arms ache. When he left the house to get on his way, she couldn’t stop herself from following him.

“Jug-” Betty called out after him, stepping out barefoot onto the porch. She gently closed the front door behind her. He was ready to stop her before she could even get the sentence out.

“Don’t even think about it,” he ordered, turning to her. Betty was caught off guard as he just stared back at her with a knowing look on his face and a shrug, “you’re not coming with me.”

Even after everything, he could still hear her thoughts like a mind reader. He knew her. Maybe better than she knew herself.

Betty stepped to him, instinctively letting her hand reach out to rest on his arm. She breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t pull away.

“You should not be going alone-”

“I need you here with JB, okay? I need you here…” he said hotly, his sentence lingering.  Against his better judgment, he finished it. “I need you here safe.” Betty tilted her head to the side, eyeing him with concern.

“And what about you, Jug? You have no idea what you’re walking into-”

“I’ve got reinforcements. I already talked with Grinder this morning.” Betty’s hands dropped to her sides, defeated.

“Of course, you did,” she grumbled crossing her arms tightly over her chest – both to ward off the chill in the air and express her dissatisfaction. Her gaze fell to the ground but she could still see Jughead give another weak shrug in her peripheral.  The kind he gave when he wasn’t sure what else to tell her.

“I said I was going to…”

“I know, I know,” Betty huffed, crossing the porch and moving away from him. He watched her as she paced a few times and then leaned against the wooden railing, somberly.

“Hey... don’t start this now, please-”

“You know, there was a time where it was me you used to come to,” she blurted, despite not really wanting to. She could feel her cheeks warming. “I don’t know why you don’t think you still can. Or why you threw it away in the first place-”

Jughead slowly neared her and reached forward, placing his hands on her shoulders and it both quieted her mind and calmed her heart - just like it always seemed to.

Like he used to. She wanted to shrug them off, tell him that he wasn’t allowed to touch her like that anymore. That it wasn’t fair. He knew his touch always seemed to heal her. Cleared her mind.

“Betty… look. I’m sorry that I hurt you. But there are bigger things right now-” She scoffed and tugged herself free of his grasp.

“You really think I care that you hurt me, right now? Of course, there are bigger things than that, God, Jug! But I’m not going to stop caring about you or the people you love just because you dumped me -”

“I didn’t -!” he stopped, lowering his eyes and his voice. “I didn’t dump you, Betty.”

“Call it whatever you want.” Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest again already. She hated the way he could still make her feel every burning emotion, all at once.

“I don’t want you to be mad anymore,” he said, pitifully. He didn’t want to keep having the see and relive the hurt on her face every time he saw her - reminding him over and over again of his mistakes. It hurt and confused him too much. Made his head too foggy.

“I’m not _mad_ , I’m _sad_ , Jughead!” Betty nearly yelled, hot tears in her eyes. They both stood in stunned silence for a moment, unsure what to say. She took in a long, shaky breath, trying to get her heart to just beat normally.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes falling from hers.

“ _I’m_ sorry,” she replied. “It’s just… You were my best friend long before you were my boyfriend. And you’re not going to be able to shake me off that easily. Not anymore. I gave you your space, but what good did it do - For _either_ of us?”

“ _Betts-_ ”

Betty stepped to him again, only this time she took his face in her hands and forced his gaze to meet hers, “I’m not going anywhere.” Jughead stared back at her and from the look in her eyes, he knew she meant it.

“I’ve noticed,” he responded flatly, under his breath. But there was no malice in his words; in fact, Betty was almost certain she could see the slightest hint of a smile behind his steel, blue eyes. “Like I said before, it’s _safer_ here. I want you _here-_ ”

Betty dropped her arms to her sides, uttering, “Well, I have some bad news for you, Jug. It’s not exactly safe for me _here_ , either.”

And just like that, the smile behind his eyes was gone.

“You mean… with the gunman?” Jug wondered, instantly delving into how the police were on it and how he hardly thought whoever shot Fred would be much of a threat. But Betty’s stare told him there was more.

“No, Jug. I mean with the _Roaches_.”

Jughead froze. Swallowed.

“Wh- how did you…”

“Last night,” she admitted. She’d wanted to tell him before, but he had been so focused on his mission (as he should have been), she knew the timing wasn’t right. But she’d never been able to keep things from him, and he needed to know that he wasn’t doing her any favors by keeping her here in this town with a bounty on their heads.

“What happened last night?” Betty looked down at her scarred hands, fidgeting nervously with them once more. Jughead reached forward and stopped her, getting her to look back into his eyes, “what happened last night?” he repeated.

“I was walking to the Wyrm-”

“You were walking? At night?” Jughead immediately cut in, causing Betty to roll her eyes.

“Okay I’m not going to tell you if you scold me for every single thing, Jug,” Betty deadpanned, and he nodded her on, letting her finish. but instead, she bitterly added, "You know, victim shaming is a _real_  problem-"

"Betty," Jughead warned, and she snapped back to the topic at hand.

“I was walking to the Wyrm and this blue car kept circling the block over and over again. Then… they got out. I saw the roach emblems on their clothes. One of them had metal teeth.” She watched as Jughead’s eyes widened in recognition. “Your dad said you got yourself into some trouble. He was talking about the Roaches… _wasn’t he?_ ”

“ _Seriously?_ ” he moaned, his head falling back, “you need to stay away from them. And the Wyrm. And don’t go walking around at night-!”

“Just answer the question, Jug… Are you in real trouble? Because I’m worried about you;”

“It’s fine, Betty-” he tried to spit out, but she was less than convinced. “ _Please_. Stop worrying about me-”

“I’m never going to stop worrying about you. I’m never going to stop trying to protect you, even if that means walking alone at night. So please… stop shutting me out. And just tell me what we’re dealing with, here.”

_ We. _

It had been a while since he’d heard those words and it made his heart flutter ever-so-slightly. He missed the concept of ‘we’ more than he was willing to admit.

“We always worked better as a team…” she made sure to remind him.

Jughead leaned against the railing now too, their bodies side by side. He ran his fingers through his hair under his hat, then secured it back on his head.

“The Roaches are just... this rival gang from the other side of the river. I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting them a few weeks ago. I guess my dad owes them some money and they came to the Wyrm to collect.”

“And then what?” She could tell that wasn’t the whole story. Jughead sighed again, and she was certain he did not want to be divulging this all, but she’d really left him no choice.

“And then… my mouth got me into a little trouble.”

“That’s why you had the black eye,” she breathed, putting two and two together. She could remember it so clearly - although she didn’t want to. The memory transported her right back to that bowling alley parking lot.

“I could have handled it fine just… that one Roach - the one you just mentioned. With the metal teeth? He knew who you were. He threatened you.”

Betty turned her whole body toward him, getting close. She reached up, taking his cheek in her palm once more and shaking her head with teary eyes, “is… is that why you broke up with me? Because you were trying to protect me?”

His mouth fell open as his eyes searched hers, trying to find the words. She thought he might say yes, that the love was all still there and every moment they hadn’t been together had been as much agony for him as it had been for her. Instead, his fingers curled around her wrist, slowly bringing her hand back down from his face.

“We broke up for a lot of reasons, Betty,” was his short, simple reply. Betty folded her lips, sighing through her nose. He was so damn stubborn. “And I mean it. Stay. Here.”

“But the Roaches-”

“Lay low. Three days. That’s all I need.”

And just like that, Jughead was leaving her porch and heading down the sidewalk to some unknown fate, taking Betty’s heart right along with him.

* * *

Jughead hoisted his backpack further onto his shoulder as he entered the police station. He trudged up to the same sign-in sheet, offering a tight, unyielding smile in the receptionist's direction, and then placing his backpack into the holding bin. Bags weren't permitted - even if this particular bag only housed a fresh change of clothes and some cash - no hand saws for busting his dad out, or anything like that.

He only had a little while before he had to be on his way, but he figured he couldn't leave his dad out of the loop with what was going on now. In the past, FP had avoided the topic of Gladys and could barely tolerate conversations about JB - It hurt too much. But Jughead wasn't about to head 6 hours east without giving his dad a reason why.

Wasn't expecting to see you so soon," FP said when Jughead made his appearance on the other side of his cell bars.  " _Especially_ after our little tiff yesterday," Jughead smirked.

"Aw. You know I can't stay mad at you, Pops," Jughead teased, scooting the metal bench over and having a seat. FP neared the bars - he looked more worn that he had before. Jughead swallowed down the knot in his throat. His father was wasting away in here and he hated it. Every second that went by that FP wasn't a free man, Jughead felt like more of a failure.

"I had a visitor today."

"Betty?" Jughead uttered, but then he shook his head. He'd come straight from Betty's house to the jail, there was no way she could have visited before him.

"Hiram."

"What," Jughead breathed, his face growing hot but pale. His stomach sunk and he felt woozy. FP nodded, heaving a frustrated sigh.

"Well, not Hiram _specifically_. One of his cronies. Said they'd secured the funds for getting my lawyer and getting the Roaches paid off... wanted to know how reliable you were."

" _Me?_ "

“Like I said before. You're indebted now. And from the way he was talkin' to me, I don't think I'm off the hook either."

"Dad, I... I didn't know-"

"You remember your homecoming dance? When I said we should go meet up with your mom in Ohio?"

"Dad," Jughead's voice broke. There was so much loaded in that one statement: his dad was going to suggest they jump bail and skip town. And he had no idea what kind of mess Gladys had gotten herself into. It made what Jughead had to say that much harder.

"What's the hold-up, Jug?" FP asked, his voice pleading. "What do you even _have_ here, now? Certainly not Betty. _You_ made sure of that."

Jughead could hear the disdain in his father's tone. FP had always liked Betty. And he knew before that Jughead's main reason for wanting to stay behind in this godforsaken town had been the blonde-haired beauty. But now? What did he have to lose?

"Dad, I'm going to Ohio." He needed to rip off the band-aid. No more skating around it.

"Okay," FP breathed, and Jughead could see him trying to piece together just what Jughead meant. "I... I guess I could meet you there-"

"No, dad, you don't understand," Jughead said. He stood, nearing the bars. "I'm not going there to stay. I am going there to get mom."

"What? _Did she..._ is she _okay?_ " Jughead winced. He knew FP wanted to ask him if she'd hurt herself - it wouldn't have been the first time if she had. Although, Jughead didn't like thinking of that day.

It was back when Jughead had just turned thirteen.  He'd gone to his usual double-movie night at the Bijou with Archie, as they did for the last two or three years. There were plenty of reasons that Jughead despised his birthday, but there was one reason that only Archie knew.

The Joneses had just lost their house - the one across the street from Archie's and next door to Betty's. So much had changed in such a short time. Things had gotten worse since FP lost his job at Andrews Construction and they just couldn't seem to catch a break. Although Jughead carried some unwarranted resentment toward the Andrews at that time, he'd stuffed it down and went to the movies with Archie - as was their tradition.

But when Archie walked him back to his new home that night - the one at the trailer park that both mortified and angered Jughead inside - they were greeted with the ominous glow of police lights in his driveway.

"Dude... what's going on?" Archie wondered beside him. Jughead stared at his house, painted blue, red, blue, red, blue, red in the flashing lights.

"I... I don't know."

"Want me to come inside?" Archie offered, but Jughead shook his head. He clenched his teeth and his fists. He figured that FP had done something again and gotten himself in trouble. It was happening more and more those days, and he didn't want to be more mortified than he already was.

"No, just... go home, Arch. I'll see you tomorrow." Archie agreed, and Jughead angrily stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and headed up the gravel path to his rickety front porch.

There were two officers in the living room talking to FP.

"What's going on?" Jughead asked, surprised to see FP on the couch with JB on his lap.

One of the officers closed his notepad and tipped his hat at FP. It was clear they were just finishing up whatever it was they were doing there.

"We'll be in touch. Let us know if you need anything, Mr. Jones," the other officer said, walking right past Jughead on their way out.

"Dad," Jughead tried again. "Where's mom?" FP looked drunk, his head bobbing from side to side before his stare lazily found Jughead across the room.

"She's sick," he told him, as though that were any kind of answer that would be enough for Jughead.

“What do you mean she’s sick? Is she at the hospital?”

“Sort of,” FP replied. He scooted Jelly off his lap and stood, his knees popping. He walked right past Jughead on his way to the refrigerator, where he snatched out a beer and popped the top off.

“What do you mean _sort of?_ ” Jughead asked hotly, watching as FP drank down at least half of the bottle’s contents. “ _Dad!_ ”

“ _Relax_ , Jug!” FP snapped, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “She’s fine. She’s just seeing some doctors for a little while because… she’s sad.”

“I thought you said she was _sick_ ,” Jughead said, his eyes narrowed slits as he stared down his dad. FP shrugged – he wasn’t always the best dad, especially back then. He didn’t know how to express his feelings or handle any crisis without alcohol or some other vice to take his mind away from it.

“Yeah, well… sometimes you can be so sad it makes you sick.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Jughead choked out, overcome with emotion. He just wanted one straight answer… and although he wasn’t sure why, but somehow he knew what FP was getting at. He’d seen his mom’s ups and downs. Things had been so hopeless lately and his mom had been on a downward spiral. Before tonight, she’d been in bed for three days.

FP neared him, slapping a few times affectionately on the shoulder, “you’ll understand one day.”

Now that he was older, Jughead did understand.

He learned that Gladys had tried to overdose on sleeping pills that day. She was at home alone with Jelly when FP came home and found her, luckily calling 911 and getting her help.

But what if FP hadn’t come home that day – which wouldn’t have been uncommon at that time. Gladys would have died. 

On Jughead’s birthday.

Just another reason to loathe the day he was born.

Jughead decided not to tell FP all of the details now – about Gladys’ boyfriend (did he even know Gladys was dating??) or JB taking it upon herself to jump a bus to town to get away. Because what could FP do from here? He needed to focus on getting out. All this information would do is frustrate him or cause him to lash out. Jughead knew his dad, better than almost anyone.

“Mom’s fine. I just think it’s time she comes home.”

“She hasn’t taken my calls, you know,” FP told him, unable to hide the melancholy in his voice. “Tell her… tell her I miss her. And I’d like to hear her voice. Jellybe- er, I mean… JB too.” Jughead couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth pull at his dad’s attempt to call JB by her self-chosen nickname. He knew his dad was trying, and that’s more than he’d ever done before.

“I’ll tell her,” he assured him. “I’ll be back in a few days. Hopefully, mom will be with me.”

FP reached through the bars, lightly slapping his hand against Jug’s neck, lovingly.

“Bring her home, kid. And I won’t be too far behind. I promise you.”

Jughead smiled. Nodded.

For the first time there was real hope in his heart that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to that.

* * *

“Where is it?” Alice said from the doorway of Betty’s bedroom, watching her carefully with narrowed eyes and a disapproving frown on her lips.

Betty didn’t look up as she continued to fold her clothes and place them nicely in her overnight bag.

“You’re going to need to be more specific, mother,” was her curt reply.

“The jacket – _my_ jacket. It’s not in the box, I know you have it.”

Betty turned, braced and ready for yet another fight. She crossed her arms over her chest protectively, tilting her head to the side as she asked her innocently, “Now, what jacket would you be referring to?”

But of course Betty knew exactly what jacket Alice was referring to. After she’d worn it to the Whyte Wyrm the night before, she’d left it on the porch before going inside with Jughead. It wasn’t until later that she was able to get it and take it back up to her room.

And now it was currently shoved in the bottom of her bag.

“ _Don’t_ start this, Betty. I want it back upstairs in that box _immediately-_ ”

“Or you’ll _what_ , mom?” Betty wondered. She neared Alice menacingly. “Or you’ll _ground_ me?”

“You can be mad at me all you want for keeping my _private_ past _private_. But I am _still_ your mother.”

“Unfortunately, that's correct," Betty sassed.

"Elizabeth Cooper!" Alice gasped.

"But what about _my_ private life? Does that role mean you get to meddle in _mine?_ How does it feel?”

“That is _hardly_ the same,” Alice scoffed, her face becoming redder by the second. Betty could tell she was about to explode, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She gritted her teeth and zipped her overnight bag shut, much to Alice's horror.

“And _where_ do you think you’re going?”

“I told you,” Betty sighed in annoyance, but she hadn’t, really. “Veronica’s.”

“What, now? While I’m stuck here babysitting?” Betty shoved past Alice, her shoulder bumping her a little too roughly on her way to her bedroom door.

“I told you about this weeks ago. Veronica and I have an overnight retreat with the River Vixens.”

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re running off to follow Jughead to Toledo and _if_ you are, Betty, I swear on _all_ that is holy-” Betty stopped her mom by placing a hand on each of her shoulders to calm her.

“I’m going, now,” she told her slowly and clearly. “I will only be gone a day or two.”

It wasn’t true, but by the time Alice figured that out, she’d already be on her way to Toledo. She just couldn’t let Jughead do this alone - no matter what he’d insisted on. She was tired of following his rules - or anyone else's, for that matter

She told Alice goodbye, and she seemed too stunned and exhausted to fight her on this. Betty stopped on her way out when she felt a tinge of guilt in her stomach for treating Alice so poorly since the night before. But there was still so much anger inside of her – the lies, the betrayals…? Taking it upon herself to meddle in Betty’s relationship with Jughead, thus breaking her heart beyond repair? It had all stacked up. And maybe when she got home from Toledo she’d have a fresh outlook or some kind of understanding.

But as of right now… she was still too hurt.

Even still, she turned to Alice.

“I _do_ love you,” she told her, to which Alice seemed surprised. 

But also relieved.

“I love you, too,” she uttered back. Betty picked up her bag, not saying anything else on her way out.

* * *

Betty had only ducked into Pop’s to grab a quick bite to go before the trip, but she regretted that decision almost immediately.

“Betty! There you are!” Veronica called out from a booth the moment she entered. She looked at the clock, reminding her that her time was limited. She needed to keep it brief for a few reasons, one of which being that she was certain Veronica and Archie would not approve of what she was about to do.

Veronica gracefully slipped from her seat, Archie following right behind.

"What, you don't check your phone anymore?" Veronica razzed, half-seriously as she sauntered up to her best friend. Betty inwardly groaned - she had seen the missed calls since the day before, but she hadn't had a chance to get back to Veronica with everything else going on.

“Hey guys,” Betty said warily, her voice cracking.

“Listen… We need to talk to you,” Veronica started in, apprehensive but determined. Betty’s eyes wandered again to the clock above the kitchen window.

2:39.

She only had 20 minutes left.

“Um… can you make it fast?” she wondered. Archie and Veronica exchanged a questioning glance before their eyes fell to Betty’s small, tan suitcase.

“Where are you going?” Archie was the one to ask the glaring question.

“It’s… _private_.”

“ _Seriously?_ ” Veronica snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. Her amused laugh tapered off when she saw Betty was not laughing. “Betty. It’s us. You can tell us anything.”

“Yeah. Where are you going?” Archie chimed in. As much as Betty wanted to tell them, she didn’t have the time or the energy to discuss all the details at this moment.

“It’s complicated _._ I just have to go out of town for a few days-”

“Oh, skipping town. Trouble with the law?” Veronica teased, but her tone was far from light. Betty finally took a moment to look her friend up and down. She could tell that Veronica was stressed - Her normally pristine appearance seemed a little strained, her face tense and tired.

“I promise I’ll tell you when I get back-” Betty’s words were cut short when a customer bumped into her, causing her purse to go toppling to the tiled floor. Only a few things fell out and Betty dove to the floor to collect her various belongings, as did Veronica and Archie.

Archie snagged up a folded piece of paper, his eyes not-so sneakily roaming over the small font.

“You’re going to Toledo?” Archie said aloud, but before Betty could snatch it from his hand, Veronica got to it first. She held it just out of Betty’s reach as her eyes drank in the words - an itinerary.

For a bus ride to Toledo.

Which was leaving in 18 minutes now.

“Toledo? Betty, what the hell is this?” Veronica scolded. She nearly crinkled the ticket in her clenched fist, her other hand on her hip, “Does this private, complicated matter have to do with Jughead?”

Betty’s hand snapped forward and grabbed the ticket from Veronica, smoothing it out on the countertop, “V, I clearly would have told you if I wanted to.”

“Do you even know who he is anymore, Betty?” Betty’s head whipped back as though she’d been smacked.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Betty found herself chuckling, shaking her head at her best friend - who was hardly acting like one at this very moment.

“Jughead was at my house yesterday,” Veronica informed her. “Visiting my dad.”

Betty’s blood ran cold, “for… for what?”

“He wouldn’t tell us. He’s up to something, and whatever it is, it involves my dad. So… I can’t imagine it’s anything good.”

Betty wanted to ask more, but it was obvious that Archie and Veronica couldn’t answer the questions she now had. Her eyes met the clock again – she didn’t have time for this.

“I’ve gotta go, guys-“

“What, you’re just going to go with him? Knowing he’s hiding something?” Veronica asked, her eyes wide with astonishment. Betty rested her hand on her friend’s arm – as much as she wanted to ease Veronica’s mind, the bus to Toledo was leaving and she needed to be on it.

“V, I’ll ask him about it. I’ll find out what I can, okay?” Betty promised, and although she could still see the reluctance on her face, the brunette gave her friend a quick nod.

“Fine. But if you’re in trouble… you’d tell us, right?” Veronica asked hopefully. Betty pulled Veronica in for a quick hug.

“Of course,” she told her. “I just have to take care of something with Jug. We’ll be back soon. And hopefully, I will have the answers you want.”

“Be safe,” Archie added, and Betty decided she didn’t have time for food, she needed to get over to the bus station before she missed the 3:00 to Ohio.

“I will,” she assured them. She picked up her bag and turned to leave. “Also, V… if my mom asks, I’m with you... _okay?”_

* * *

The Greyhound bus began to pull away from the station as Jughead settled into his seat. It was going to be a long ride, and he was looking forward to it. At least then he’d have the time to get his head on straight and get prepared for just what he was about to do.

But all of that hope was dashed when the bus stopped after only a few feet.

The bus driver opened the doors, and he wondered why he was so surprised when he saw Betty climb onboard – and in a Serpent’s jacket, nonetheless.

She sheepishly handed the bus driver her ticket, and he saw her face drop when she turned and saw him. She had probably assumed he was going to take his dad’s truck. And while he’d considered it, he’d decided that it was best to take the bus, what with not having an actual driver’s license and all.

There were a few open seats, but she came and sat beside him.

“Oh. Hey,” she breathed, flashing him a quick, guilty smile.

“ _Really?_ ” he snapped. “Don’t ‘ _hey_ ’ me.”

“I didn’t know you’d be on this bus-” she muttered, shamefully.

“And you think that makes it any better?” Betty was tired of everyone telling her what she could and couldn’t do - _including_ Jughead.

_ No, especially Jughead. _

“You know, Jug, I don’t _care_. You aren’t the boss of me. I wasn’t going to let you do this alone.”

“I said it was dangerous, Betty,” he whispered harshly when he noticed they were beginning to make a scene with their bickering.

Betty rolled her eyes and rooted around in her bag, pulling out a pack of gum, “and I said that’s exactly why you shouldn’t go alone.” She countered. Betty nudged the pack of gum in his direction, “Gum?” she offered flippantly. Jughead glared back at her in response, so she shrugged and pulled out a piece for herself. She unwrapped it leisurely before popping it in her mouth. “This is gonna be a long ride if you’re mad at me.”

“I can’t believe-”

“Oh, r _eally_ , Jug? _You can’t believe this?_ It’s _me_ , we're talking about. Of _course_ I followed you. So you can wallow or you can be grateful that you’re not alone. I told you that you couldn’t shake me off that easily.”

Jughead stared at her for a moment, a faint hint of a smile on his lips. Resignation. There was nothing he could do about it now, and he knew it.

“You really are stubborn, you know that?” he told her, finally taking a piece of gum for himself.

“As are you, Mr. Jones. As are you.”

Betty leaned back in her seat, turning off her phone. She didn’t need it going crazy once Alice inevitably figured out that Betty wasn’t where she said she was going to be. While she trusted Veronica to cover for her, she knew her mother wasn’t stupid. She was probably already on the phone to Hermione at this moment, making sure Betty’s story checked out.

Betty turned her head when she heard Jughead quietly snickering beside her.

“What?” she wondered, unable to stop the short giggle from escaping her own lips as she asked.

“What? Oh. Nothing it’s just…” he paused, staring out the window so he didn’t have to look at her as he softly told her, “this feels kinda like old times, you know?”

“It wasn’t that long ago that we hopped a bus to find Polly,” Betty recalled. She smiled sadly but sweetly. “You have no idea what it meant to me… having you there with me.”

“I know,” Jughead croaked out, finally looking her in the eyes. Betty could sense the worry and apprehension in him. She reached down and clasped her hand in his, giving a soft squeeze.

“I would _never_ let you do this alone.” His mouth opened to respond, but instead, he pulled her in for a hug. He didn’t realize until just now how much he still needed her. And she knew that all along, even when he didn’t.

“Thank you.”

The bus pulled away, and the two settled in for a long ride. 

* * *

_ To be continued... _


End file.
